


Running Away From Harmony

by Starfishgirl



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: ...twice, Actor-Comedian Richie Tozier, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Comedian Richie Tozier, EMT Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Language, Falling In Love, Fix-It, Fluffy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Getting Together, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, Love Confessions, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Oblivious Richie Tozier, Oh these lads, POV Alternating, Panic Attacks, Patty's there too, Reddie, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, ie cursing, mention of benverly, mention of bill/mike - Freeform, minor horror (IT), obvious closet metaphor, pretty fluffy with a tad of angst, stan/patty, twice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 18:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 24,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30042975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starfishgirl/pseuds/Starfishgirl
Summary: A 35 year old comedian slips and whacks his head on the sidewalk. The EMT who comes to his aid is weirdly familiar...Basically 5 years before IT comes back Richie and Eddie meet and get to know each other all over again before they forget once more.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 19
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone! So I saw the clown movie and thought, oh this was pretty good and so when the 2nd one came out in theaters I went to see it and thought... well this is homophobia XD Essentially these two 40 year old dumbasses got stuck in my head and after like 2 years of reading fic for them I finally was inspired to write some myself! Hope you like it! I'll put content warnings before each chapter because I did rewrite the encounters the gang has with IT and Bowers so there's some horror :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not a medical professional in any way, shape or form so are all situations in this 100% accurate? Probably not but hey, it's a fanfic about an alien murder clown so... *shrugs*

Richie Tozier is not a careful man. Well no- that’s bull shit. He’s careful about some things. Finding the line between humor and genuinely hurting people? Super careful. Drinking just enough to make life blur at the edges _without_ becoming an alcoholic? He walks that line like a circus performer. Keeping a 25 year old secret so tightly under wraps that he almost, just almost, forgets the truth and can pretend that he doesn’t want to implode every second of his life? He’s as careful about that as a person with anxiety playing Operation. 

When it comes to walking, handling sharp objects, or other things in that arena? Not so much. Honestly, he probably _should_ be better at all of these things by now considering he’s 35 fucking years old. But nope. Walking is specifically the problem today though. He really can’t maneuver his body with the same abandon as he did as a teenager, where all the flopping of his gangly limbs somewhat balanced out, yet attempting this is apparently his default setting. Maybe the reason he never stopped is because that’s one of the things he actually remembers about being a teenager. Everything else is a vague blur of angst, anxiety and a town he can’t recall the name of for the life of him. 

Whatever the case, it’s that uncontained tendency that has landed him on his back on the wet pavement, staring up at the sky drifting in and out of it, people starting to gather around him, murmuring about the fact that a semi famous comedian just landed like a turtle while rushing to a meeting. A fucking meeting. He _hates_ meetings. As much fun as it is to make slimy executives in suits annoyed with his constant jokes and blasé attitude, he genuinely despises the two things all these meetings entail: sitting still and talking about himself. Yet he had been rushing to this one, not looked where he was going and fucking slipped on the wet pavement, landing on his back and whacking his head. 

He vaguely registers that someone’s apparently called the ambulance without consulting him, which makes sense because everything is kind of fuzzy right now and he wouldn’t even know if they did. Maybe they did. The sirens are getting louder and the world is getting dimmer. He can hear the paramedics pushing through the now large crowd, one of them sounding especially irritated with the onlookers. 

“Move aside, c’mon, I said _move aside_ , let us _fucking_ through- _thank you.”_

Richie smirks to himself, though maybe that's just in his head. He’s not really sure what his face is doing right now. The sky is so pretty, all those clouds. He wants to go to sleep. Sleeping on a cloud would be nice. That cloud kind of looks like a dick. That’s funny. He likes that one- oops, better not say _that_ outloud. Hehe. Whee. The world is so blurry and he thinks maybe he should just go to sleep. He’s so tired. 

The paramedics make it through the crowd and kneel next to him, readying a stretcher, asking him questions. He recognizes the voice of the one leaning over him as the one who was annoyed with the crowd. 

“Sir can you hear me?” Doesn’t he know that voice from somewhere else though? 

_“Hey dickwad, did you hear me? It’s my turn for the hammock.”_

“Sir, can you tell me your name?” Maybe not the voice itself, just the pacing of the words, the tone? 

_“Well you’re welcome to join me but I don’t know if it’ll support both of us Eddie Spaghetti, me and your mom wore it out last night, it’s barely hanging on.”_

_“Oh, Fuck you!”_

_“Woah woah woah, watch your language there…”_

“...Eds?” Richie mumbles, before he completely loses consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie doesn’t normally do this. In fact, he’s _never_ done this before. He has a pretty simple policy, he does his job, gets changed, goes home. That’s it. He _never_ puts on his street clothes and walks to the main desk. He certainly never tries to _see_ anyone he brings in. Sure, he’ll see what passing information he can hear in the hallway if it’s a particularly memorable case but other than that, it’s just his job. He helps people, drops them off and moves on. So he has _no_ idea what the fuck he’s doing as he walks over to Nurse Deborah at the front desk in his jeans and polo shirt and asks 

“Is Richie Tozier still here?” She looks up, surprised to see him standing there and not already out the door and walking briskly to his car. 

“Umm.. let me check. Why, are you a fan of his?” What? Was this guy famous or something? Eddie supposed that was why his face looked vaguely familiar which explains part of the questions he has. What that doesn’t explain is why that guy said _his name_ . If that even was his name, it was only half of it after all, but it was clear as a bell. _Eds._ Eddie couldn’t figure out why and honestly, he also couldn’t figure out why it was bothering him so much. Maybe seeing the guy again could help him just make sense of it all. Then he can move on. 

“No, not a fan, just... a friend.” She looks sceptical, which he supposes makes sense, as he’s claiming to be the friend of an apparent celebrity _and_ he’s behaving rather uncharacteristically anyway. 

“ _You’re_ a friend of Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier?” _Trashmouth?_ He nods. 

“Mhmm, childhood friend, we lost touch for a bit then reconnected. I brought him in today and I’d really like to see him. Please.” He doesn’t even know where that lie came from or why it sounds so Goddamn believable coming out of his mouth but he’s glad it did because Deb’s eyes soften.

“Oh sweetie, you had to bring in your childhood friend?” He nods again, looking at her with widened eyes that hopefully say to her “I’m gravely concerned about this guy who I totally knew existed before today and whose name I definitely didn’t have to find out from his wallet- which, by the way, had _way_ too many punch cards for Domino’s in it, like it was _concerning.”_ Apparently they do because all of a sudden he’s in the doorway of Room 308 staring at Richie Tozier, who is lying in a hospital bed and looking out the window. Eddie’s not really sure what he’s looking _at_ , as the window doesn’t showcase anything except for grey buildings pressed up against each other like they’re the little pieces that you put on a Life board. Also, Richie’s glasses are on the little table next to him so he probably can’t even _see_ the disappointing view. But maybe it’s just better than looking at the ceiling. Either way, he’s distracted when Eddie clears his throat, and starts when he hears the noise. 

“Gah!” He turns his head and squints his eyes, moving his hand behind him for his glasses with paradoxical scrambling ease. “Is that you, doc? Sorry, one sec, I can’t see jackshit right now.” Eddie rolls his eyes. Is this really how the guy is going to talk to someone who he thinks is a medical professional? Or any stranger really? He briefly remembers swearing profusely at the onlookers earlier when he was trying to get through the crowd but dismisses that comparison immediately. That was different. That was a medical emergency and they were all blocking the damn way like a bunch of meerkats while he was trying to do his job. This guy is just a… What was the name Deborah had called him? Trashmouth? 

“No, sorry, not the doctor, I’m-”

“Edward?” 

Eddie’s eyes widen. He _was_ talking to him earlier. But then Richie keeps going. 

“I mean, I’m assuming, cause that’s what it says on your nametag.” Oh. Eddie feels oddly disappointed but maybe it’s just annoyance at himself for jumping to conclusions. He forgot he had clipped it to his polo shirt since he wasn’t leaving the hospital yet. Maybe that’s how Richie knew his name before, too, if that’s even what he had been saying. Although… no. His name tag had been under his jacket. Eddie’s heart swells with hope, though again, he doesn’t know the fuck why. 

“It’s Eddie, actually.” 

“That’s kind of boring.” Eddie glares at him and crosses his arms, leaning against the doorway. 

“That’s fucking rude.” Richie’s only half listening to his retort as he looks up at the ceiling and frames his hands like a manager telling a young starlet she’ll see her name in lights one day. 

“We need to spice that up. What about… Eddie… what the fuck rhymes with Eddie? Uhhhh…” He stops when he registers what Eddie had spit back at him, recognition dawning on his face. 

“Wait a second, I recognize your voice! You’re that EMT that brought me here, the one was who was cursing out the crowd! Man, that cracked me up. Well it would have, if I hadn't already been cracked up by the sidewalk.” Eddie cocks an eyebrow. “I know, I know, not my best material, but hey, I have a concussion, give me a break.” He pauses. “So… why are you here, Edward?” 

Eddie glares at him again. 

“Eddie.” Richie shakes his head and then winces. That apparently was a painful move. Good. 

“Nope. I refuse to call you that until I can think of a rhyme to make it more exciting.” Eddie huffs. 

“Seriously? You’re going to deliberately annoy me by calling me by a name I hate until you can think of one I’m sure I’ll hate even more? What kind of a douchebag does that?” Richie smirks.

“What kind of a douchebag doesn’t tell the guy in the hospital bed why he’s lurking in his doorway like some kind of midget slenderman?” 

“Oh fuck you.” Richie laughs.

“Not before the third date, sweetheart, can’t have word getting around that I’m easy. People talk, you know.” Eddie stands up straighter, rolls his eyes, and tries to pretend that the sudden redness in his face is from anger, and not a warm blush that he wishes he could pull back into his skin. 

“Yeah, I’m sure a random paramedic hooking up with a D-list celebrity would really make all the headlines.” Richie laughs. 

“Baby the only D- list I’m on is “World’s biggest di-”

“DUDE.” Richie stops, though he’s still giggling to himself and smiling like an idiot. Eddie finds himself looking at his messy dark hair and strong jaw scruffy with stubble and thinking he’s not actually bad looking- when he’s not lying passed out on slick cement, that is. He pushes that thought away though, for _so_ many reasons. When Richie calms down, he looks Eddie in the eye with a face more serious than before. 

“So you know who I am?” Eddie shakes his head and Richie looks confused. 

“Why’d you call me a D- list celebrity then?” Eddie uncrosses his arms and puts his hands in his jacket pockets, feeling the plastic of his inhaler in one of them. 

“The nurse who told me what room you were in asked if I was a fan of yours.” Richie frowns. 

“Why’d you want to know what room I was in then, if you didn’t know who I am? Is this normal EMT behavior, checking on all the people you bring in? Or is that just reserved for D-list comedians like myself?” Oh. He’s a comedian. Well, that explains the jester-like attitude and the comment about “his best material.” Also why Eddie had never heard of him. He’s not a big fan of stand up comedy, preferring to listen to NPR in the evening while he eats dinner before he watches movies on his couch until bed. Eddie shakes his head.

“No, EMTS don’t usually come stand in the doorways of patient’s rooms and listen to them make dick jokes.” Richie grins. 

“So why am I so special then?” Eddie pauses. 

“You... said my name. Before you passed out. ” Richie furrows his brow. 

“What? I did?” Eddie nods. 

“I thought maybe we knew each other from somewhere or something.” Richie shakes his head slowly, brow still furrowed. 

“ I don’t… I don’t think so. Fuck, I don’t even remember doing that. Are you sure it was your name? I was pretty out of it.” Eddie nods, even though he’s really _not_ sure and is quite honestly feeling rather dumb for even pursuing this at all. He should have just gone home. He could be listening to Fresh Air and eating dinner right now, he’s fucking hungry. 

“Yeah… I mean… well... you said ‘Eds’ but…” Richie is back to grinning, looking like he just won a jackpot. 

“Eds??” Oh no. Eddie closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head at himself. 

“Don’t call me that.” He opens his eyes just as Richie’s face slips, his smile gone for a second. He finds himself also suddenly serious, something echoing in the back of his brain.

_“Don’t call me that, asshole!”_

_“Call you what, Eds?”_

_“STOP IT”_

_“Stop it? I didn’t call you ‘stop it,’ Eds”_

_“AGH”_

Eddie snaps out of it and shakes his head, Richie doing the same, though more gingerly than Eddie. They make eye contact and Eddie debates asking him if he heard the same thing but that would be ridiculous. He shakes his head again, straightening up and getting ready to make some excuse to leave when Richie suddenly shouts 

“SPAGHETTI!” Eddie actually jumps. 

“Jesus Christ dude, what the fuck?!” Richie looks overly prideful as he answers at a more acceptable volume. 

“I thought of what rhymes with Eddie!” Eddie rolls his eyes, feeling quite aware of how many times he’s done that since he walked into the room. 

“Seriously? You took all that time to come up with spaghetti?” He pauses, the realization of what Richie shouting that actually means hitting him. Oh no.

“Indeed I did, Eddie Spaghetti, you see, sometimes genius takes time. We can’t all be hit by an apple like that Newton dude and have instantaneous epiphanies.” 

“No but any old idiot can hit his head on a sidewalk then think of a shitty nickname.” Eddie grumbles. Richie looks offended for show. 

“Excuse you, would an idiot say ‘instantaneous epiphany’ or know about Isaac Newton?” 

“1st graders literally do that, are you seriously bragging about that?” 

“1st graders say the phrase ‘instantaneous epiphanies’?” Eddie can’t help laughing. The joke is just so stupid and obvious and barely even a joke and he yet he actually snorts. Richie beams and joins him, seemingly thrilled at the sheer amount of laughter Eddie is producing, or maybe just at the fact that that’s what made him lose it. 

The actual doctor chooses that moment to come into the room and Eddie immediately stops laughing. The arrival of another person really makes what he’s doing sink in. He’s in a random patient’s room talking to him like they’ve known each other forever, just because the dude mumbled one syllable. This is ridiculous. 

Doctor Park, like Deborah, looks surprised to see him there. 

“Oh Edward, do you know Mr. Tozier?” Before Eddie can answer, Richie cuts in. 

“Excuse you, doc, he’s my best friend and his _name_ is Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie turns red and covers his face with his hands like a weeping widow. Jesus Christ. 

Doctor Park looks like she really wants to laugh but seems to know if she does then Eddie will combust. Either literally or figuratively it’s unclear but it’s in her own professional medical opinion that it wouldn’t be smart to try it and find out. Instead she just looks bemused and is probably about to ask Richie if Eddie can stay while she goes over Richie’s chart before he can leave when Eddie suddenly mumbles

“You know what, we don’t actually know each other and I have to go.” He turns and leaves, not waiting for either Dr. Park or Richie to either ask him to repeat it or say anything else. He thinks he hears Richie yelp 

“Wait, Eddie!” but he doesn’t go back to find out. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mild homophobic language (Richie thinks to himself)

When Richie leaves the hospital around 30 minutes later he’s still confused. Not because of the rather prominent bump on his head and the still ongoing concussion which yes, hurts like a mother fucker. That’s part of it, but mainly it’s because he can’t figure out why Eddie just… left like that? What did he do? Did he go overboard with the whole name thing? Did he push him too far? Though honestly, if the joke about them hooking up didn’t do it… thinking about that now makes Richie grimace. He should be more careful than that, he usually  _ is  _ more careful than that but talking to this Eddie guy… the words just slipped out. Shit. Maybe the real reason he ran off was to find some gossip rag and tell them all about how Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier is a flirt and a fairy. Well, the first part wouldn’t be breaking news but the second… Fuck. Somehow Richie doesn’t think that’s what happened though. Hopefully.

Richie sighs as he makes it back to his apartment and lets himself in. His voicemail is blinking but he ignores it and grabs some water before laying down on the couch. Fuck, he’s tired. He should probably take a shower, eat something and answer what are probably all very loud voicemails from his manager but he really just wants to take a nap. 

One loud stomach rumble later however, makes him decide that food is actually his biggest priority. He pries himself briefly off the couch to go to the phone, where he orders a pizza. Before he can even hang up the phone there’s another call beeping through. He finishes ordering the pizza before he answers it, saying 

“Hi Steve” before the caller can even begin. 

“Richie, what the fuck?!” Richie sighs. “This meeting was fucking important, I told you that 3 fucking weeks ago and-” 

“-hey Steve, do you remember me ever meeting a guy named Eddie?” 

“What?? No Richie, shockingly, I don't keep tabs on every fucking person you meet.” 

“Well can you find him for me? I don’t know his last name but he’s an EMT…” 

“Richie I’m not your private detective, I’m your fucking manager, and after today, I don’t know if I even want to be that anymore, what has gotten into you?! Did you hit your fucking head this morning?” Richie’s kind of surprised that the news of today’s events didn’t make its way to Steve already, with how many people were there. He kind of figured it would be in the tabloids already- though if anyone knows not to trust those, it’s Steve. He’s leaked enough on Richie’s behalf.

“Yeah, actually, I did.” 

“Wait, what?” Richie leans against his counter, running his hand through his hair, careful of the lump. 

“I slipped on the way to the meeting today and whacked my head, I was in the hospital.”

“And you didn’t think to call me?” 

“Jesus Steve, what are you, my wife? No, I didn’t call you. I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t make the meeting but can we please talk about this later? I’m fucking tired.” Steve sighs. 

“Fine. We rescheduled for Thursday. Can you manage that without ending up on life support?” Richie grunts affirmatively then puts the phone down. Dick. 

His pizza comes and while he’s sitting pathetically alone at his kitchen table like a lonely bachelor in a movie he thinks about Eddie. He was cute, in a way that Richie really wished he didn’t notice. It must be an opposites attract thing because everything about him, from his neatly combed hair to his tucked in polo shirt was so completely different from Richie’s open Hawaiian shirt over t shirt combo. It was like comparing a chaperone at Bible camp to Michael Scott from the Office on beach day. Richie can’t help but wonder what he must look like in his EMT uniform and curses the fact that he didn’t take it in when Eddie was literally leaning over him. 

Now he’ll never know. It’s not like they’re just going to run into each other, and despite the half serious tasking of Steve to find him, Richie doesn’t feel like being creepy enough to track the guy down. He supposes he could always just injure himself but again, feels a little drastic and a lot risky. Besides, Eddie all but ran out of the room. It’s pretty clear where he would stand on a proposed friendship. Or anything else for that matter. Not that Richie would dare to ask for anything else. He can’t take that risk… no matter how cute or delightfully acidic that risk may be. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anxiety

Eddie is kicking himself. Not literally. A more accurate description of his actions would be “Eddie is in his car in the hospital parking lot using his inhaler with a fervor only seen in desperate people.” Because he  _ is _ desperate. He’s desperate for not only the air that inhaler is pushing into his lungs, but also just the normalcy of it. He  _ knows _ his inhaler, he uses it nearly every Goddamned day. Less since his mother died last year but still. It’s familiar. Talking to, and dare he say, hitting it off with handsome and goofy strangers he brings into the hospital, is not. It’s overwhelming, especially with  _ that  _ goofy handsome stranger who, for a second, felt as familiar as his inhaler for some reason. That freaked him out just as much as trying something so new out does, because he  _ doesn’t  _ know this guy and yet when Richie joked so cavalierly that they were best friends it sounded so real. But Eddie doesn’t have friends, he’s never had friends, he doesn’t  _ want  _ friends, or really anyone. So he ran. Back to his inhaler, back to his routine, back to his comfort. Like a coward. 

When Eddie finally relaxes enough to drive home and gets to his apartment he’s exhausted and still hungry. Before he does anything else though he takes a shower, scrubbing both the grime and stress of the day off him. It’s even easier to breathe after he does that. He hadn’t realized how much tension he was holding in his chest before he released it. 

Once he’s clean and has eaten he feels even more like an idiot for running out of there. What’s worse is that he has no way of even finding Richie again so there’s no going back. Some things are final. Or so he thinks. 


	5. Chapter 5

_ Two weeks later _

Eddie’s walking down the hallway of the hospital after his last call for the day when he hears a voice that makes him sweat. 

“I  _ told  _ him that, Hedi, it made no difference!” Myra, a nurse at the hospital who keeps flirting with him. He’s done everything he can think of to put her off. He walks away mid conversation, doesn’t laugh at her jokes when she does, and makes up excuses every time she asks if he’s busy. He would just reject her but she hasn’t technically asked him out yet and the little voice in his head keeps him doubting. Maybe she’s just being nice and he’ll be a creep or offend her if he rejects her out of the blue. That’s probably an irrational fear judging by how many times she touches his arm in the span of 5 minutes but it’s enough to make Eddie doubt. So he has instead taken to hiding whenever he hears her. Luckily she has a voice like a fog horn, which, just like an actual fog horn, warns him when danger is approaching. 

He looks around the hall for either someone to engage in a fake conversation or a bathroom to duck into. There’s no one and nothing of the sort around but there is a door marked storage closet. For a second Eddie debates. On one hand, storage closets tend to have things like dirty mops and toxic chemicals. On the other… 

Myra’s voice gets closer and his decision is made. He throws himself into the storage closet quickly, shutting the door behind him after checking that it wouldn’t lock him in. Shutting the door requires him to step even further back into the closet and that’s where he runs into a problem. He’s not alone. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cw: Panic Attack

Richie Tozier does not get panic attacks. At least that’s what he tells himself. However, the evidence is stacking against him as he stumbles through the hallway feeling like he’s going to pass out. He probably looks like it too, considering the fact he is breathing irregularly and is walking crookedly from the dizziness. He needs to sit down and he needs to do it now. Preferably in private. The last thing he wants is for some passing staff to see him and to report the story of Richie Tozier stumbling through some hallway of a hospital. Steve would kill him. It’s not like Richie has been a role model or that people even really expect that of him, honestly a misogynistic comedian getting trashed and doing something stupid is almost more expected than angelic behavior is. But after this news… yeah. Richie would be dead. 

He sees a storage closet and tests the handle just as he hears voices. Thank God the door is unlocked. When his eyes get more used to the darkness he looks for a bucket or something to sit on. Closets like this usually have buckets in them for this very reason right? Or have all the movies lied? Apparently yes, Hollywood is not concerned with accurate storage closet portrayal because there is no bucket to be found. Maybe the last guy in here having a breakdown took it. “Not a breakdown, just a panic attack” a little voice that isn’t his says in the back of his mind. Either way Richie ends up sitting on the floor. He puts his head in between his knees, which is probably not the right thing to do in this situation but again, all he has is movies here. That’s usually the protocol when someone is dizzy. 

It doesn’t do much for him and Richie is in the middle of mentally cursing out all of Hollywood for not providing him with effective coping mechanisms when the door opens and someone backs into him, stumbling and almost sitting on his bowed head. 

“Shit!” Richie doesn’t know who it is but whoever it is sounds aggravated. “Why the fuck are you on the floor- hey buddy, are you okay?” Whoever it is sounds genuinely concerned and Richie only hopes it’s a doctor. Maybe they can fix this. “Hey, buddy.” The voice is soothing now. “Can you reach out your hand? I'm going to take it so you can communicate, but only if that's okay with you.” Richie does, and feels someone gently put his hand in theirs.

“Okay, squeeze once for yes and twice for no. Are you hurt?” Richie squeezes twice. “Do you know what’s happening?” Once. “Asthma or other medical conditions?” Twice. “Is this a panic attack?” Once. “Okay. I need you to try and take deep breaths for me okay?” Richie tries, he really does but it’s not exactly working. “Okay, let’s try this, can you name 5 things you can see?” Richie raises his head and looks around him, trying to see in the dark. “Okay that was stupid, we can skip that. 4 things you can touch.” Richie tries not to grope in front of him as he feels around, as to not accidentally grab a stranger. 

“My legs… the floor… a shelf… a bottle.” 

“Okay good. 3 things you can hear.” 

“Voices… breathing and beeping.” 

“2 things you can smell.” 

“Cleaning products and... cologne.” 

“One thing you can taste.” 

“Pancakes... and coffee.” He had eaten at Denny’s before this. 

The guy in with him chuckles. “That’s technically two things but hey, I won’t tell if you won’t. The fact that he says that when they’re both in a dark closet together is just way too close to other closet encounters Richie has had in the past for him to laugh. That, and he just got his breathing back, he’s not going to waste it. What he does use it on however, is saying 

“Thank you” to whoever is in there with him. “Sorry I can’t look you in the eye, I can’t see shit.” The guy chuckles again, his voice warm with bedside manner. Then he says, 

“Oh shit, I have a flashlight.” Richie does laugh at that. 

“How did you forget…” He trails off when the flashlight clicks on and he’s squinting at Eddie’s face, 2 feet from his own. “Ah fuck.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of panic attack

In hindsight, this shouldn’t be as much of a shock as it is. Eddie probably should have recognized the slightly nasal voice when he first heard it. It  _ is _ rather distinctive and besides, he’s certainly heard it coming from his computer enough these past two weeks. But still. Richie Tozier is the last person he expected to find having a panic attack in a supply closet. He expected a new father or a patient who got a terrible diagnosis or even just anyone else having a hard time. But no. It’s Richie looking into his eyes, or rather, anywhere except for into his eyes. Eddie’s not quite sure what to do so he asks the first thing that comes to mind. 

“How long have you been having panic attacks?” Richie shrugs. 

“I dunno. I think this was my first one. Honestly, I don’t even know how I knew what it was. Must have seen something about it on tv or something.” Eddie nods, though Richie still isn’t looking at him. Eddie’s not sure if he’s embarrassed or annoyed or both. They should probably leave the closet but Eddie’s not sure the conversation they should be having would be any better out in the open. At least in here they have some privacy. Even if that privacy smells like bleach. 

“Did something happen to trigger this?” Richie nods. 

“Yeah, I… got some good news. It just...made me freak out about some other stuff.” It’s vague enough where Eddie can tell that’s all Richie wants to share and that’s fine. He’s about to keep going with professional conversation when Richie speaks again. “Hey man, did I… do something? Like… you just… ran off. I mean I didn’t think we were going to be like bffs or anything but… you just ran.” Eddie pauses. He’s been thinking about this a lot. About what he would say if he ever got to explain himself. Not because he actually thought he would see Richie again but he really likes to be prepared just in case. But now Richie’s in front of him it’s a lot harder to stay on script. He just looks so… vulnerable. He sits back on his heels and takes a second before he realizes that Richie had asked for more than an explanation. Shit. 

“No, man, it wasn’t your fault, I just… panicked.” Richie laughs wryly. 

“Well fuck. I can’t be mad at you for that without being a dick.” Eddie snorts. 

“When’s being a dick stopped you from doing anything?” Again. Way too familiar. Eddie reaches to touch his inhaler but doesn’t run this time. Richie’s not  _ really  _ a stranger now… it’s a least a little less odd for them to be comfortable around each other. Richie snorts. 

“Fair point, Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie sighs and stands up. Richie looks alarmed and also jumps to his feet, way too fast. He reels and Eddie grabs his shoulder. “Hey man, calm down, I’m not leaving. Besides I told you, not your fault.” Richie nods. “I just thought we could come out of the closet and maybe get some coffee?” That makes Richie softly snort to himself again for some reason but then he nods and opens the door. Eddie pokes his head cartoonishly out of the doorway before he follows though, checking for Myra. Speak of the devil, the next question Richie asks him as they start to head down the hallway is 

“Hey, so why were  _ you _ in the closet anyway?” He explains sheepishly about the Myra situation. Richie laughs shortly. “Dude, just tell her you’re not interested. Or start dating some other chick, she’ll get the hint.” Eddie doesn’t say anything and Richie keeps talking, casually clapping his hand briefly on Eddie’s shoulder. “Well either way, don’t worry, Eduardo, worst comes to worst, I’ll protect ya.” 

Somehow, Eddie believes him. 


	8. Chapter 8

Well shit. Eddie  _ does  _ look hot in his uniform. Should that be the first thing on Richie’s mind when they leave the closet? Probably not. Is it anyway? Absolutely. The shorter man leads him out to the parking lot, neither of them talking much after Richie’s “I’ll protect you” comment, which he already regrets. Richie had taken a cab to his appointment that day so they both get into Eddie’s car. Richie has to duck substantially more in order to get in and he definitely mentions that fact to Eddie who casually flips him off. Once in the car, Eddie sighs and looks at him. Richie immediately feels nervous, like Eddie’s going to realize hanging out with him is a terrible idea and kick him out of the car. But he does the opposite, saying

“Look, this is going to sound insane but do you want to come over to my place?” Richie’s mind goes absolutely blank before Eddie continues. “It’s just, I know I asked if you wanted to get some coffee and that offer is still on the table but frankly I’m exhausted and at least this way I can get changed. Besides, my place is quieter and more hygienic than any coffee shop around here.” Richie needs to make his mouth make sounds. 

“Uhh.” Eddie grimaces. 

“God I’m sorry, this all sounds so sketchy, never mind, I-” Richie cuts him off.

“No, no! Sorry, yeah, that’s fine, I’m down. Whatever’s good for you, man.” Richie doesn’t ask him why he doesn’t want to just exchange numbers and reschedule, or why he isn’t worried Richie’s a murderer. He doesn’t want to press his luck. Besides, this isn’t the most dangerous situation he’s ever put himself into. At least he’s sober right now. Also, he has a good foot or so over Eddie so if he has to, he’s pretty sure he could take him down. That train of thought leads to others that Richie has to desperately repress, looking out the window to try and refocus his mind. 

When they get into Eddie’s apartment, Richie has to admit that he was right. The place is a lot cleaner than any coffee shop would be. Honestly, Richie doesn’t feel clean enough to be in here right now, especially considering he was just sitting on the floor of a hospital supply closet. Eddie hangs up his keys and goes to the sink to wash his hands, then to turn on a coffee pot he has on the counter. He then turns to Richie. 

“Uh do you mind if I take a quick shower? It’ll take 10 minutes, tops.” Richie nods. 

“Yeah, no problem, Spaghetti Man, I’ll just be here, figuring out what I’m going to steal.” Eddie raises an eyebrow, then slowly turns to go into a door which Richie can see leads to the bedroom.

“Good luck, I really don’t have anything of value.” Richie laughs and Eddie waves to the couch. “Make yourself comfortable by the way, I’ll be right out.” Richie nods, but when Eddie leaves the room he stays standing. He actually does look around the apartment, but not to take anything, just to see where he is. Everything is pretty monotone, but in a surprisingly soothing way. The walls are a soft grey, as is the furniture. There are some pops of color here and there, mostly red, in things like a large rug in front of the couch and a lampshade on a small table next to it. There also aren’t really any photographs or other personal touches anywhere. No pictures of family or friends or even pets. Jesus. This guy might be lonelier than Richie is. Or maybe he just doesn’t like to display such things. 

Richie makes his way to a sizable window to the left of the couch to look out at the city, or rather, an alleyway in the city. Not the best view but it’s not a bad one to zone out at. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. Anyone could have seen him going up to some random guy’s apartment. Yeah, people can have friends. Yeah, his ghost written sets have him constantly talking about all the different women he’s supposedly dated but… people talk.  _ Tabloids _ talk. This is exactly why he was freaking out earlier when Steve called. He had gone in to the doctor for a follow up, just to make sure everything was alright after the concussion and after the appointment his phone had rang. Steve told him that the executives they had met with last week really liked him- Richie feels like “him” should be in quotes, they don’t know  _ him _ \- and they want him for a part in some upcoming tv show. 

It’s not like the character he’d be playing is so far off from the one he plays onstage, (unfortunately) it will be doable. No, what sent him spiralling was the little side comment that Steve had made before hanging up the phone: “And Richie, remember, soon people are going to know you for more than shitty comedy.” That scared him shitless. The thing about being known for shitty comedy is that your fan base is, well, not small, but it’s limited. People don’t care  _ that  _ much about you. The frat bros who like him only care about what he has to say onstage. The tabloids only really care because Richie’s a big enough name that makes people stop and think “wait where do I know him from” and then they’ll buy the magazine to remember and stop holding up the line. But they don’t really care. So he still feels like… who all these people care about is a character. When he gets home, he still feels safe, hidden. But if this show blows up and people start to actually know who  _ he  _ is and care… oh God. Because people want to  _ know _ about actors. Comedians act enough like they bare their soul onstage by talking about (fake) personal stories, no one really wants to know more but actors… people care about actors. People dig deep on actors because they  _ know  _ that they’re portraying characters and if they (heaven forbid) like the show and characters… they’re going to want to know about the actor. 

Richie takes a deep breath, still looking down into the alley. He’s got to calm down. The show probably won’t go anywhere, no one will like his character enough to care about him. He’s spiralling over nothing. It’s pathetic. He takes another deep breath.  _ C’mon Tozier, don’t be a pussy  _ his inner voice says, sounding just like his onstage personality. 

“Why is it every time I walk into a room you’re staring out the window like a zombie?” Eddie walks up behind him, toweling off his hair. Richie jumps, then turns to face him, smiling. 

“Probably cause I never hear you coming, Spaghetti, you’re so small and stealthy.” Eddie glares.

“Fuck you dude, I’m not that short.” Richie rolls his eyes.

“Mmhmm.” Eddie puts the towel around his neck and holds onto the ends, quirking an eyebrow.

“What the fuck were you even looking at, there’s just an alley down there.” Richie shrugs. 

“Nothing, just thinking.” 

“Hmm.” Richie laughs.

“I take offense to that noise Eds.” Eddie scoffs.

“You can’t take offence to a  _ noise _ . Also, that is not my name.” He makes it too easy.

“Who ever said your name was ‘that’, Eds?” Eddie’s face is the living embodiment of the -_- emoticon. 

“Haven’t you used that one before?” Richie’s face scrunches up.

“I don’t think so.” Eddie shrugs and walks over to the coffee pot, towel still around his neck.

“Hm, maybe your material’s just that forgettable.” Richie gasps in an exaggerated way, putting his hand to his heart. 

“Oof! Eds gets off a good one!” Eddie ignores that and grabs two mugs and asks over his shoulder

“Do you take anything in your coffee?” Richie follows him into the kitchen and stands awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Nah, I’m good.” Richie would probably normally put in some sugar if he wasn’t at someone’s house. He doesn’t want to be a bother. Eddie also forgoes any additions to his beverage and together they sit across from each other at the table in the dining area. There’s no window in here so Richie has to look right at Eddie. Eddie, whose usually neat short hair is even darker than normal from the shower and ruffled from the towel. Eddie, whose cheeks are slightly pink and whose shirt is damp, gently hugging his biceps. Richie mentally clears his throat but out loud says “so, how long have you been an EMT?” Eddie looks thoughtful. 

“Oh man, about 10 years believe it or not, how long have you been a comedian?” Richie smirks.

“My whole damn life, but I didn’t start my actual, like, ‘career’ until about ohhh 5 years ago. That’s when I was ‘discovered’ or whatever, at the shitty dive bars I was working at. Eventually I got fame, fortune and an identity crisis, you know, the whole 9 yards.” Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“Elaborate on the last part?” 

“9 yards? That’s the approximate length of my di-” Eddie interrupts him.

“The identity crisis part, asshole.” Richie sighs, sipping his coffee.

“Basically, I don’t write my own shit. It’s all written by ghostwriters. And I hate it. I mean, on one hand, it’s great for avoiding vulnerability and keeping my life and my stage life separate but… on the other hand, I’m exactly the kind of guy I hate.” Eddie’s raised both of his eyebrows by now. 

“Damn. I’ll admit, I looked you up and watched some videos.”

“And?” 

“I would hate it too.” Richie cracks up, mainly because it feels so good to be honest. To let his guard down, just a little. It’s not like it’s his biggest secret or anything but… he wants this guy to know that even though the guy onstage  _ is  _ him, it’s not the him he’s the most proud of. Actually… he doesn’t really  _ have  _ a him he’s most proud of. 

Eddie starts talking while Richie is ruminating on this, causing him to snap out of it. 

“It’s funny, it sounds like you became a comedian to separate yourself and become someone else, but I became an EMT to become myself even more. My mother… well, she raised me to be… medically knowledgeable, to put it nicely. She also raised me to be helpless. So I guess becoming someone who not only understood all that medical shit I had been learning since birth but also helped other people was my way of proving to both of us that I could not only take care of myself, but also others.” Richie doesn’t really know what to say, but he probably could have come up with something better than 

“So your mom kind of sucked, huh?” Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat. 

“You could say that.” Richie can’t help himself. 

“Well I was definitely saying that about her last night, though I shouldn’t say ‘kind of,’ one thing that can be said about Mrs. K, when she does something, she really gives it her all!” Eddie freezes, and for a minute Richie thinks it’s cause he ran his mouth too far again. But instead Eddie says

“How’d you know my last name started with a K?” Richie’s mind goes blank, how  _ did  _ he know that? He stammers

“I… don’t know…” until he has an epiphany. “Oh wait, it’s on your nametag, right? Edward .K.? What’s the K stand for?” Eddie looks appeased and not like he’s going to kick Richie out for making a mom joke (and a shitty one at that.) 

“Kaspbrak. Also, fuck you for the mom joke, what are we, in the second grade? Jesus Christ. Maybe it’s good you don’t write your own shit.” There it is. 


	9. Chapter 9

Eddie’s not really sure why he invited Richie back to his place. Well, besides the reasons he gave him in the car, which were absolutely true. His shift was long, he’s exhausted and he  _ really _ needed a shower. But he could have rescheduled, or gotten Richie’s number. Eddie Kaspbrak does not invite strange men back to his place. He doesn’t invite  _ anyone _ back to his place, for whatever reason. But he just had this weird feeling, like he didn’t want to risk never seeing Richie again. So he brought him home, like a seashell from the beach. 

Now Richie’s sitting across from him at the table, sun lighting him from behind, and Eddie can’t help thinking that he made the right choice. God, this man is beautiful. This isn’t some big awakening for Eddie, he’s very aware that he’s gay, he’s never been interested in women and his mother… well. The more she tried to push him the other way the more she made who he really was clearer. Richie smiles at him and Eddie’s stomach suddenly jumps with nerves, making him feel jittery. He may know he’s gay, but he’s never dated. It used to be because he really just didn’t want to rock the boat at home with his mother, then he was taking care of her and now… well, it’s just habit now. Being alone. Besides, he’s fine being alone, he’s really not into trusting other people. The last person he trusted was his mother and she kept him imprisoned with locked doors and curfews and fake pills and warnings of AIDS. After that, well. He wasn’t really keen on trusting anyone, and he didn’t need to, like he proved to his mother, he can take care of himself. But he’s also never met someone like Richie before. He makes Eddie actually want to relax around another person. It’s that simple. Well, that, and Eddie wants to climb him like a tree. But that’s besides the point. 

The only problem with this little break through is that  _ Richie’s _ not gay, and judging from the comment he made earlier about Eddie dating other “chicks,” Eddie’s not setting off his gaydar either. Eddie, of course, knows that there’s an easy way to clear that up but… he doesn’t want Richie to get the wrong idea from all of this. He did invite him to his place out of the blue after all and then get in the shower. Also… just because Richie hates the misogynistic asshole he is onstage doesn’t mean he doesn’t share at least a few of those beliefs. On the other hand… There's something about this guy that makes Eddie want to give him a chance. Maybe if it comes up naturally, he’ll see if Richie’s single and go from there. 

“So the girlfriends you’re always talking about in your shows, are they made up too?” Orrrr he could be a dumbass and blurt  _ that  _ out. That’s always on the table. Richie chokes on his coffee. 

“Uh yeah, yeah, why Spaghetti, you wanna hook me up with that nurse you were talking about? Distract her? I don’t know if I can abandon your mom like that.” Eddie scoffs dismissively, heart sinking. 

“Jesus Christ. No, I was just curious. I thought you said you  _ weren’t  _ the guy from your standup.” Richie shrugs, eyes not meeting Eddie’s as he mumbles

“Guess there’s some overlap.” Eddie wants to change the subject and Richie must too, because he quickly says “So Eddie, did you grow up around here?” 

“Yeah, kind of. I moved here with my mom when I was around 17. Did you?” Richie shakes his head.

“Nah, I’ve lived all around but recently I was in L.A. I moved here last year. Might stay here for a bit. Depends.” 

“On what?” Richie finally looks Eddie in the eye when he answers. 

“If I have a reason to stay.” See, okay, this feels like the definition of mixed signals to Eddie. 

At least it does until Richie clarifies: “My manager may have gotten me on some new t.v show here in New York.” Ah. Got it. 

“That’s cool man, hope it works out.” Well. They can be friends. That works. 

They end up talking for hours, a conversation peppered with dick jokes (Richie) and your mom jokes (Richie) and attempts at sincere conversation (sometimes Richie.) Eddie eventually realizes that he doesn’t know how to end having someone over. Not that he wants Richie to leave, but he realizes it nonetheless. Richie seems to realize this too because he says 

“Alright Eds, I’ve talked your ear off for long enough, I should let you rest.” Eddie nods. Richie writes his phone number on a pad Eddie keeps on the counter. “Call me sometime if you want to do this again.” Eddie nods again and Richie goes to leave. “Oh and thanks. For the coffee and the… closet.” Eddie smiles.

“No problem, man, least I can do.” Eddie walks with him to the door then Richie leaves. He sighs as the door closes. Leave it to him to have the first guy he falls for be a straight comedian with a dirty mouth. For a second he thinks he hears a sigh from the opposite side of the door echo back at him but he shakes his head. He’s being stupid.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There may be some smoochin'...............

It becomes a weekly thing, coffee at Eddie’s place. Richie’s television show takes off, and to his relief, even though it’s successful, his popularity doesn’t rise too much. It’s probably because he’s playing the same idiot he always is. He likes being on the show, his costars are fine, the money is nice, but honestly the nicest thing about it is it keeps him in the city. With Eddie. Eddie, who’s not so slowly becoming his favorite person, something that sets off warning bells in Richie’s head the minute he shuts the door to Eddie’s place. That’s not the problem though. The problem is that those bells are silent when they’re together. He finds himself with his arm casually resting on the back of the couch behind Eddie as they watch t.v., something so close to intimate contact that he would normally never allow it. He finds himself playful swatting Eddie when the other man steals his french fries after refusing to order some for himself. He finds himself letting Eddie rest his head on his shoulder if he’s had a long day at work. But it’s okay because Richie’s still in control. He’s got this. Right? 

It’s been about 6 months since they met and Richie’s walking down the hallway to Eddie’s apartment carrying takeout. His phone rings in his pocket and he fumbles with one hand before stopping and setting down the bag of Chinese food. It’s Steve. 

After the phone call Richie continues to Eddie’s apartment, feeling like a zombie. This feeling doesn’t go away when Eddie opens the door, but his smile does make Richie’s face automatically light up. He feels like he has no control over that though. Inside he’s numb. They sit on the couch, a recent tradition that only came into play once Richie wore Eddie down after a million arguments that all went the same way.

_ “C’mon Eds, I feel so formal sitting at the table, like I’m eating with my parents.”  _

_ “Dude no, you’re going to get food fucking everywhere!” _

_ “Not true!”  _

_ “Richie you can’t do anything without flailing like limp pasta.”  _

_ “Big talk coming from the king of Spaghetti!”  _

_ “Fuck you, that doesn’t even make sense.”  _

_ “Fuck you!”  _

Eddie puts on a movie, some old black and white drama that is actually pretty compelling. Richie isn’t really watching though. Normally they would sit around and talk afterwards but today Richie gets up and makes an excuse. 

“I’m really tired Eds, I’m sorry.” That’s not true and it’s only 5pm but he knows if he stays and talks to Eddie he’ll have to tell him what Steve said and he just… he really doesn’t want to. So instead Eddie walks him to the door like usual. This is the point where Eddie usually claps him on the shoulder like an awkward dad at a baseball game but today he leaves his hand on Richie’s shoulder then slowly pulls him in for a hug. Richie doesn’t really know how to process this except for it feels really fucking good. He doesn’t know the last time someone really hugged him. Maybe his mom, but that was a long time ago, almost 10 years. Fuck.

They separate and then Richie leaves. Well, he goes out the door and he stands in the hallway. He’s never going to see Eddie again. That’s probably being dramatic and if he actually talks to Eddie, practical Eddie, about what Steve told him, Eddie would probably have a solution. A smart one. But right now, zombie Richie doesn’t want to be smart. He doesn’t want to be logical and he doesn’t want to be scared. 

Eddie’s back is turned when Richie re opens the door and walks back in. He’s the opposite of stealthy so Eddie immediately turns around from where he is in the kitchen. 

“Did you forget something?” Richie nods, standing just inside the doorway, close enough to Eddie where he can see the subtle highlights in the man’s eye. “What is i-”

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie freezes. Richie is really glad he’s a zombie right now, otherwise he would be hyperventilating. Then Eddie quickly nods and closes the short distance between them, reaching up to put his arms around Richie’s neck. Richie leans down and lets his hands fall naturally to Eddie’s waist, softly kicking the door closed behind him. He realizes he might not be a zombie after all, because his heart is beating really fucking fast. He’s not sure if he leans down or if Eddie stretches up but their lips meet and his heart explodes. If he at any point had to claim he had a plan, he would have said it was for a chaste kiss. A soft goodbye kiss. A one time dream fulfillment. He would not have said that his plan was to have Eddie’s strong hands move to his face, or for the kiss to deepen, or for Eddie to quietly moan like that when Richie licks inside his mouth. Fuck, this was not the plan. The plan was also not for him to somehow end up with his back against the wall while his hands slide under Eddie’s shirt, or for Eddie to pull Richie’s flannel off, letting it fall to the floor. Now they’re both just in t-shirts and Richie’s still against the wall with Eddie leaning in between his legs and this was really, really not the plan. He breaks off the kiss and leans his head back against the wall, breathing heavily. Eddie, also panting, puts his forehead against Richie’s chest. Richie wants to cry. What the fuck did he just do? 


	11. Chapter 11

Eddie can’t believe this is happening. He pushes his forehead against Richie’s broad chest and tries to catch his breath. He takes in how fast Richie’s heart is beating also, or he does until Richie suddenly moves. Gently pushing Eddie off of him and grabbing his shirt from the floor, he backs to the door, saying 

“I’m… I’m sorry, I have- I have to go.” Eddie’s too stunned to say anything until Richie’s already gone. 

“Wait…” Eddie tries to call Richie several times in the following two weeks, getting less casual with each voicemail he leaves. It isn’t until he sees a continuous stream of paparazzi photos online of Richie in L.A. some time later that he realizes Richie is gone for good and by then he can barely remember why he cares. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay! CW: vomit, mentions of blood, bullying, how fricking awful Derry was

_Roughly 4 ½ years later_

Richie vomits everywhere, Mike’s words still ringing in his ears. Behind him he can hear Steve yelling about his show but it doesn’t matter. He remembers Derry. He remembers that hellhole where he spent his fucking formative years and now he has to go back. No fucking way. Even as he protests this in his head he knows it makes no difference. He has to go. 

He turns to face Steve. This isn’t going to be pretty. He had just started touring again after the t.v show finished its final season. Whatever. This is more important.

“I have to go man, cancel the show, something really urgent just came up.” 

“What?! Richie, we have a sold out theater out there, you can’t back out now! What the fuck?!” Richie’s already moving, throwing on his coat and leaving the building. 

“I’m sorry man, I’ll explain later!” He pulls out his phone and hires a Lyft to take him home so he can pack a bag As he stands on the curb waiting for the car to come, memories start flooding his brain, images and sounds and feelings, all introduced by a narrator with a booming voice, à la movie trailers _._

 _A summer…_ Screaming, heat, running. Blood, rocks, pain. 

_A town…_ a pharmacy with a lecherous clerk, a school whose hallways are horrendously hot with hate and hormones, a movie theater a younger Richie runs into, looking behind him as larger kids chase him down the street. 

_A promise…_ 7 kids losers holding hands in a circle like a fucking cult, blood dripping down between their clasped fingers. 

_A boy…_ a strange kid’s face, holding an inhaler he pulled out of a fanny pack. 

That last image is the one that sticks with Richie. It’s the only one that makes him remember his heart pounding for a reason other than fear. Who _was_ that? His car gets there and when it drops him off at his apartment, he still can’t remember the boy’s name. Just his face, over and over, yelling at Richie in a voice he can’t remember, teasing him, laughing _with_ him. Sharing comics, patching him up after those bigger kids caught up to him. This kid was important for some reason and as Richie tears through his apartment grabbing clothes while on the phone booking a flight he stumbles across something that makes it click into place. A pin, sitting in a drawer that he had accidentally pulled open in his search for shit to take to Derry with him. Someone on the street had shoved it into his hands last June, even though he didn’t ask for one. He probably even said no. But he had shoved it in his pocket anyway, then into the drawer when he got home. It’s simple, just a little rainbow badge with a heart on it but it gets the message across. All of a sudden Richie knows who that boy must have been, what he must have meant to his younger self, if the pounding heart and sweaty palms in every memory are any indication. 

Richie remembers the 7 kids in a circle, recognizing his own face in the memory. Everyone else’s is a blur, except for that other boy and Mike. Mike had said he was going to call “the others.” Is that who he’s talking about? 

Richie’s never been so glad to have barf bags available on an airplane before. The whole flight he’s nervously sipping ginger ale like a child, trying to keep his bile down. His memories are still extremely foggy but he knows two things for sure. One, that boy, whoever he was, used to be the love of his life, and two, something very very bad is on the horizon. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of hyperventilation, bullying

If Eddie wasn’t riding in the passenger seat of the ambulance he would have crashed it. As it is, he pulls his inhaler out of his pocket and tries to calm his onset hyperventilation. His partner Gordon looks at him in alarm. Thank God they’re returning to the hospital and not on a call because Eddie needs to leave and needs to leave  _ now _ . 

“Hey man are you alright?” Eddie nods, wheezing less now with the help of his inhaler. Fuck this fucking inhaler. After his mother died he flushed all those Goddamned pills down the toilet, he sold their house, he had a garage sale of her stuff. But that fucking inhaler he just can’t let go of, like it’s a security blanket. He steadies his breath and shoves it back in his pocket. There are images flashing in his mind, no… memories. Memories he definitely didn’t have before. 

_ “No mommy, I won’t forget my medicine.” _

_ Gazebos _

_ “Fuck you guys, that water is disgusting, I can’t get in there!”  _

_ Lo _ ~~_ s _ ~~ _ ver  _

_ “Hold still, I’ve got band aids and Neosporin. We don’t want it to get infected.”  _

His head is spinning. He’s not sure how he eventually drives home but he does know he makes it there alive. He’s got to get to the airport. More memories are coming through, flashes of children with no faces all in a circle, a boy with glasses, the sound of screaming, the boy with glasses reading a comic book in a hammock, 7 kids all running like hell, that boy getting slammed into a locker at school for blocking Eddie from a bully. What the fuck is this? He’s never had friends, he’s never had someone on his side before. He books it into his apartment and grabs a suitcase. He packs as much as he can, throwing in clothes, a toothbrush and paste, medical supplies, really anything he can think of. He packs it neatly and compactly, checking and double checking everything in a way he didn’t think he had to anymore. As he’s leaving, booking a last minute flight on his phone, he pauses, staring at the wall next to the doorway. He feels like there’s something else he forgot, he just doesn’t know what. 


	14. Chapter 14

Richie rings the hanging gong in the restaurant as loudly as he can, announcing 

“This meeting of the Loser’s Club has officially begun!” He’s relaxed a little since the plane, at least enough to get to that place where he can hide his feelings with humor. Seeing Ben and Beverly in the parking lot helped. They gave him someone to play off of, lean on, perform for. Also, seeing them filled in some blanks, started to color in the faces of the children he keeps remembering. His past. His friends. 

Speaking of, as he takes in the room around him he recognizes Mike and… what’s his name? Bill? Neither of them are the boy from his memories but- his gaze lands on the short man next to Bill and his knees nearly give out. Eddie. His name  was is Eddie. But there’s something else… he knows that face way too well. Sure, Eddie didn’t change as drastically as Ben did but Richie knows he recognizes him from somewhere else. 

_ Two grown men on a couch, one eating a burger, one eating a salad and stealing french fries.  _

_ “Eds, why can’t we watch something in color for once? How about something from the 80’s?”  _

_ Two men playing video games like teenagers, both yelling at the screen. One narrates the character’s thoughts, making the other one snort with laughter and lose the battle.  _

_ “Can I kiss you?”  _

_ Two men kissing, one with his back to a wall, the other pressed against him, fitting right between his legs.  _

_ One man running away from what he wants because he’s scared of who he is.  _

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. 

“Richie?” 

“...Heyyy Eds.” 


	15. Chapter 15

Eddie knows him the minute he walks in the room. Trashmouth. Richie. Rich. He feels short of breath, and looks around furtively to see if anyone else is reacting like this. Nope. Okay, Kaspbrak, dial it back. It’s just Richie.  _ Just Richie.  _ Richie, his best friend. His first (and only) crush. The kid in the glasses in his memories. The one who protected him. The one who left him. No, that’s not right, where did that come from? Richie never left him, if anything, he was the one always by Eddie’s side. Eddie’s even the one who moved away first, crying like a baby the whole time. 

It isn’t until he says Richie’s name and Richie replies with that fucking nickname. That’s when it happens. When he remembers the man in the closet. The man who felt immediately familiar. The man who made him laugh, made him trust, made him roll his eyes at a dick joke every ten minutes. The one who held him close and kissed him like his life depended on it and then disappeared and left him to forget ever having anyone who cared about him. 

“Don’t call me that.” The other losers chuckle with nostalgia, thinking that this is just a callback to a childhood quarrel. Not noticing that Eddie’s eyes are burning and Richie’s hands are shaking. As the Losers laugh, Eddie and Richie make eye contact, saying “let’s talk about this later” nonverbally. Now’s not the best time. 

They all sit down around the circular table and it’s just like the old days, joking, laughing. Everything’s the same, like 27 years haven’t gone by, except for the fact that they’re older and Richie and Eddie are being careful in how they talk to each other. They’re not sitting together, touching each other, or even giving each other as much shit as they used to. When Eddie explains that he’s an EMT now, Richie’s the only one who doesn’t look impressed or even surprised. Eddie wishes there was a way to signal to Richie he needs to be a way better actor and is about to kick him under the table when Ben asks where Stan is. Eddie blinks, remembering the curly haired kid who loved birds and got even more exasperated than Eddie did, but quieter. The common sense of the group. Bill may have been the leader and Mike the smart one, but Stan kept them all grounded. He looks around and realizes everyone else looks like they’re flashing back too. Richie in particular looks sick and Eddie remembers how close they were, him and Stan. Bill swallows.

“M-maybe he got l-lost.” Richie barks a laugh.

“Stan? He fucking loved things like maps and shit. No way, he’s just being a pussy.” His words sound hollow though, like there’s dread building and he’s covering it with bravado. Mike puts his hands on the table. 

“Either way, I was hoping to wait for him but might as well start now. Do you all remember that summer, 27 years ago?” Everyone nods slowly. “Do you remember  _ everything _ ?” Richie sighs. 

“Mike, whatever you’re driving at, just spit it out, we’re all in a fucking fog over here.” 

Mike pauses. 

“Do you remember the clown?” Eddie’s stomach drops, as a painted face with a widening jaw dances in front of his eyes. A leper chasing him down a road. Fear. 

The table starts shaking before anyone can say anything and when they finally escape the fortune cookie house of horrors, they all stand panting in the parking lot. 

Eddie would have thought Richie would be the first to say anything after all that, or maybe Mike. But he’s wrong. The first voice the Losers hear comes out of the dimly lit parking lot, coming from a curly haired figure stepping out of his car. 

“Hey guys, what’d I miss?” 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cw: allusions to suicidal thoughts/actions (it's v brief and vague)

Funnily enough, Richie  _ and  _ Mike are the first ones to say something after that, with Mike asking 

“Stan?” and Richie just exclaiming 

“If this is IT I’m going to fucking…” Richie is already so done. Hasn’t this day been enough? First he fucks up his show by remembering an entire childhood he forgot he even had, then realizes he forgot the love of his life and his best friends,  _ then  _ he realizes that he forgot the love of his life  _ again,  _ not to mention the murder clown or the long flight… he can’t take anymore. 

Bill speaks next, demanding,

“Te-te- tell us something only Sta-an would know.” The man, who’s still approaching, raises his hands in surrender. He thinks for a minute, then replies,

“Well, cardinals will do this thing where they cover themselves with ants, no one really knows why, but it’s fascinating.” They all look at each other then Richie says 

“Okay now tell us something  _ we _ would know.” Ben laughs. Stan says 

“Richie’s still not funny. C’mon guys, it’s really me.” Now that he’s closer to them and under the light, they can see how… real he looks. There’s purple circles under his eyes and his cardigan looks like he’s been wearing it on a plane. Mike’s the first one to move nearer and pull him in for a hug, with the others watching, still a bit wary. When Mike escapes unscathed though, Bev says 

“Oh, what the hell” and is the next to embrace the man. Then everyone else joins in, a large huddled group on the pavement. Richie speaks again, dumbly saying   
“Why are you late man, you already missed some traumatic experiences, we’ll have to catch you up and punch you or something.” Stan rolls his eyes but answers the question. 

“Sorry everyone, I just… I almost didn’t come.” It’s at this point that Richie notices Bev, who’s looking at Stan through teary eyes, seeming to know something everyone else doesn’t. She doesn’t share with the group though, instead saying quietly 

“We’re really glad you did.” Stan nods. Then he says

“One thing though, I didn’t come alone.” Okay this is it, Richie thinks, this is when Stan starts sprouting claws and spitting acid or some shit like that. This is when the mask comes off. He sees that there’s fear on the other Loser’s faces too. Then Stan says

“I brought my wife.” Bill is the first to respond, spluttering, 

“You brou-ought your-r w-i-ife?” Stan nods, and looks around at the dark parking lot. 

“Yeah, but can we talk about this at the inn? I’m assuming that’s where everyone’s staying?” They all agree that’s a good idea and head to their cars. Richie watches as Eddie heads to his, remembering how many times he’s been in that car. How many times he looked at Eddie from the passenger seat and wanted to kiss his jaw and put his hand over his. He also remembers the many times as young teens that Eddie tried to teach him to drive, yelling at him to keep his hands at 10 and 2 and screaming with fear every time Richie went way too fast. Eddie always told him he would never try to teach him again but he always did. Richie secretly thinks that Eddie used to like the freedom of speed as much as Richie did, he was just too stubborn to say it.

Once they’re all in the lobby of the inn, Stan introduces them to Patty, prefacing it with 

“Okay, I’m sorry but I really didn’t want to come. I was about to… do something... drastic-” he makes eye contact with Beverly- “but Patty found me before I could and made me tell her everything. She wouldn’t let me come alone.” Richie looks her up and down. She seems nice enough and he notices how having her near has already made Stan’s body language relax, his hand immediately finding hers when she entered the room. It’s sweet, and the other Losers must see this too because Bill says 

“Well, the more, the mer-r-r-ier. I s-s-suppose.” Mike doesn’t look so sure and opens his mouth but Stan cuts him off, saying 

“She’s just going to stay here at the inn for the most part Mike, don’t worry. This won’t interfere with anything you have planned.” That seems to appease Mike for the moment and after that they all adjourn to their rooms, agreeing to make a game plan tomorrow morning. 

As they head upstairs Richie catches Eddie’s eye and Eddie jerks his chin in a way that tells him “later” is now, get the fuck ready Tozier. He gulps and when there’s a knock on his door later he’s not surprised to see Eddie standing there with his arms crossed. He lets him in and shuts the door, bracing himself for the scolding he knows he deserves. What he’s not braced for is Eddie coming in and sitting gingerly down on Richie’s bed and sighing. 

“So. This day’s been insane.” Richie sits down next to him and can’t help himself. He pokes Eddie in the bicep. “Ow dude, what the fuck?!” Richie shrugs. 

“I was really expecting you to yell at me, kind of thought maybe you were IT.” Eddie looks peeved. 

“And what exactly did you think poking me was going to do if I was?” Richie shrugs again.

“I don’t know man, it’s not like I’m in a rational headspace right now!” Eddie smirks.

“When are you ever?” Richie opens his mouth but then he remembers their last interaction. Maybe Eddie’s right. The title of rational would probably fall first to Stan. Speaking of… 

“Can you believe Stan the Man got married?” Eddie nods. 

“Yeah, I mean we’re like 40, Richie, of course he’s married.” Richie scoffs. 

“Age means nothing. I’m not married, you’re not married…” he trails off. He’s hitting a little too close to home for his comfort but apparently not for Eddie, who says 

“Why’d you leave that night?” He says it quietly and earnestly while looking at the ceiling and Richie’s heart breaks. 

“So, we’re getting right into it, huh?” Eddie flops backwards so he’s laying flat on the bed with his feet on the floor. 

“Rich, did I do something wrong?” Richie copies the flopping, laying down next to him, but with space between them. 

“What? Spaghetti, no!” Eddie groans and rolls even further away. Fuck. 

“Don’t call me that, Richie!” Richie ignores that and goes on. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong Eddie, I just… I…” He what? Knew he was leaving town so he took his chance then panicked? Fell in love with you… again? Have been in the closet so long I don’t even know how to open it? “My job moved to L.A., I signed a contract, I had to go.” Coward. Eddie rolls back a little to face him. 

“That doesn’t explain why you ran out of there like that. What, am I that bad of a kisser?” Richie flinches. Eddie’s voice has gotten louder and he glances at the door. 

“No- I-” His voice squeaks and cracks. Don’t you cry, Tozier, don’t you cry, you fucking pussy. “I can’t tell you, Eddie.” He pushes himself up and strides to the door but Eddie’s behind him and he grabs his hand. 

“Rich, just wait, Jesus Christ.” 

“I’m sorry, Eds, I’m really sorry.” Realization dawns in Eddie’s eyes for some reason and he drops Richie’s hand, his face setting into harder lines.

“It’s fine. Let’s just forget it, we’re good, okay Rich?” Richie is a little confused why Eddie looks so resigned and tight lipped but he nods. He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Eddie’s already left the room. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group splits up to find their tokens, Cw for... idk how to put it, IT shenanigans? Blood, guilt, Eddie's mom's verbal abuse

Mike tells them his plan in the morning, about how they have to gather some artifacts in town or something, alone. The alone part’s what stuck with Eddie. He may be used to doing things on his own, good at it too, but even he knows that’s an awful idea. 

“Mike, that’s a terrible idea.” Stan intones this practically because of course he does. Mike bristles a bit in a way anyone would when told that but less so if it had come from anyone else. Luckily Stan keeps going. “I don’t know about any rituals but I do know we can’t go alone.” Richie pipes up. 

“Yeah, I mean even the Scooby Doo gang always went in pairs!” Mike nods.

“Okay fine, you can take a partner, but you have to go into wherever you go to get your artifact alone, okay?” They all agree that that’s fair and then they all stand there awkwardly until Stan sighs.

“Seriously guys? Okay fine, I’ll take Patty, Mike, you and Bill go together, Ben, you take Bev, and Eddie, you’re with Richie.” He says this with such finality no one argues with him. Not that it looks like anyone wants to. Bill and Mike wander off, talking seriously about books or some shit like that. Ben offers his arm sweetly and goofily to Beverly, who takes it, smiling up at him. They remind Eddie of Mary Poppins and Bert in the  _ Jolly Holiday  _ scene from  _ Mary Poppins _ , which is such a niche comparison it makes him smile. Stan and Patty head out, joined at the hands once again, looking at each other like they’re having a conversation with their eyes. Eddie sighs, glancing at Richie, who’s shoving his hands so deeply in his pockets it’s a surprise he doesn’t have holes in his pants. 

“C’mon dickwad, let’s go.” Richie scrambles after him as Eddie starts to fast walk to the door. 

“Dickwad? Is that any way to talk to your step-father, Eds?” Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“You know, I should have remembered you the minute you made a joke about my mother.” Richie laughs. 

“You can’t kick yourself for that, Eddie-Spaghetti, you’re still a short-stack with an inhaler and it still didn’t click for me.” Eddie scowls. 

“I’ll have you know that I am 5’9” which is the average-” Richie interrupts him, giggling. 

“Eds, when you claim something is average, you just sound more defensive.” 

“Oh knock it off.” They are outside the inn at this point and Eddie stops walking. “Where are we going?” Richie shrugs. 

“I don’t know Eduardo, where do you have the most repressed trauma from in this God forsaken town?” 

“Can you for once use my real name? I don’t know, the pharmacy probably, what about you?” Richie’s face is neutral but his answer is immediate. 

“Arcade.” Eddie nods, not asking more. They start walking towards town. Eddie doesn’t know if he should start a conversation. Out of the pairs they probably have the least to catch up on, besides Stan and Patty. Even comparing them to a couple makes Eddie grit his teeth. He has to let that go. Richie made it pretty damn clear where he was last night, he clearly regrets that kiss, which was probably a joke to begin with. A joke Eddie took way too seriously. Story of their friendship, really. 

However, a lack of reason to talk was never a problem for Richie, who starts rambling a minute into their walk. 

“Hey Eds, did you ever wonder why banana slugs are called banana slugs?” 

“...because they look like bananas Rich.” 

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. Hey, look, there’s the Paramount, it finally closed. That kind of sucks… Oh God.” Eddie’s head snaps up to look where Richie’s looking. He’s stopped and gone white, which doesn’t make sense, did he like the Paramount that much…? Then Eddie sees what’s written on the marquee. **RICHIE TOZIER 1976-2016 HE WON’T BE MISSED** He shudders and grabs Richie’s arm, making him jump. 

“Dude it’s me, c’mon, don’t let him fuck with you, let’s go.” They get to the pharmacy first, Richie’s face still pale. They stand at the door for a bit. Eddie knows what Mike told him, but he really doesn’t want to leave Richie alone out here. Richie seems to know what he’s thinking because he says 

“Go ahead Spaghetti, I’ll be fine.” Eddie’s not sure but he goes in anyway, making the bell on the door clang. He doesn’t like that, takes away any element of surprise he may have had on his side. He scoffs. Like Pennywise isn’t everywhere in this fucking town, like he’s just kicked up behind a desk somewhere just waiting for that bell to put his traps into action. 

The pharmacy is darker than normal, half of the lights burned out, but he’s honestly not sure if that’s IT or just natural wear and tear. Either way it’s creepy. Eddie scowls to himself. Seriously? He’s going to let  _ lightbulbs _ get to him? He makes his way to the counter, seeing a white paper bag sitting there. He looks around but there’s no one there. He peeks in the bag, seeing an inhaler labeled  _ Eddie Kaspbrak.  _ He grabs it and turns to go, when he hears a pleading voice coming from the basement. 

“Can someone help me? Help me, please!” Fuck. This is totally a trap. He has to get out of there right now. But… what if… what if someone’s in trouble down there? What if IT put a real person there to lure him down and Eddie didn’t help? He grips the bag he brought with medical supplies, just in case. He’s prepared, he’s trained, he’s got this. He reflects briefly on the fact that he didn’t bring any weapons to defend himself or the others, just supplies for the chance of one of them getting hurt. What’s that say about how this is going to end? He glances behind him to see if Richie’s still there outside. He can’t see anyone, but the shelves are blocking the window. The yells are getting weaker, more raspy, in a way that indicates the person has been yelling for a long time. Whoever it is is also crying. 

“Pleassse someone helppp meee, I need helpppp!” Fuck it, he’s going down there. He grabs a flashlight out of his bag and heads down the rotting staircase that’s no wider than his adult body. 

“Hello?” He calls down into the darkness. A voice answers, ragged and desperate

“I’m down here! I’m down here! Help me, please!” He answers

“I’m coming!” When he gets down to the basement, it’s a relief to find the lights on. He puts his flashlight away and looks around. He doesn’t see anyone right away. His skin starts to crawl. This feels wrong. “Hello?” No answer. “I’m here to help, I’m a first responder, can you tell me where you are?” There’s a ragged curtain closed at one end of the room and he hears a noise come from behind it. A shuffle and a groan. He swallows but strides over, pushing it aside. There’s no one there. He sighs and turns around, pushing aside the curtain once more and freezes. The lights that were once illuminating everything have disappeared and the room is so black Eddie starts to lose his sense of self. He grabs his flashlight and illuminates the room. But the basement doesn’t look like a basement anymore. Instead it’s a hospital hallway, with a light all the way at the end. It looks disturbingly sterile, the walls and hall pristine except for one thing. Lining the walls are antique looking portraits, each frame streaked with dust and a crusted veneer of dried blood. There’s little brass plaques underneath each of them. Eddie starts to walk carefully down the hall and as he does he reads the plaques. 

_ Sally Ann: Died 2008, let down by Eddie Kaspbrak  _

_ John Redville: Died 2010, let down by Eddie Kaspbrak  _

_ George Truman: Died 2011, let down by Eddie Kaspbrak  _

He gulps with realization. All these portraits are people he couldn’t save, that were too far gone when they got there. As he goes further down the hall, the guilt and fear knotting his stomach, the portraits start leaking blood, which runs down the walls and creeps under his shoes, so his footprints reflect in the light. He tracks this visual representation of his guilt down the hall. How could he forget these people? How could he forget failing them? He will always be walking in their blood. As he reaches the light at the end of the hall he hears a voice that makes him freeze.

“Edddiieee, Eddieee come home!” His mother. She appears in the light, spatula in hand. “Eddie, come home this instant! Aren’t you done playing the hero? I  _ told  _ you, you can barely take care of yourself!  _ I _ have to do that, you _ need _ me Eddie! Without me, you’ve  _ ruined  _ all of these lives, as well as your own! Running around with that dirty boy upstairs, he’s corrupted you.”  _ Richie.  _ Richie, who always believed in him as kids, telling him  _ “you can do this Kaspbrak, you’re crazy brave”  _ when Eddie was scared to jump into the water, or take a test, or face his mother. Who would say “ _ you’re my hero Dr. K”  _ when Eddie would patch up his scrapes. He takes a deep breath and keeps walking. 

“ _ No _ , mommy-” he winces, he didn’t mean to call her that. “No one  _ corrupted  _ me and I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone.” Her face twists and sneers, mocking him. 

“You’re wrong Eddie, you do need me. Because you’re a burden. A filthy little burden. Taking care of you was so stressful it killed me. Put me on the wall with the others, Eddie, you killed your mother. What a horrible son. What a disappointment. What a dirty boy.” He looks behind her as she’s spewing these words and sees the end of the staircase. He grips his flashlight as he reaches her. She smells like death and now that he’s closer he can see how she’s shaky on her legs, and how her skin is barely stapled to her bones- a re-animated corpse. A trick. He grits his teeth and leans in. 

“You know what?  _ Fuck. You.”  _ She stops talking and looks at him, mouth agape. “I’m not a burden, mom, not to the people who actually love me and I’m not a killer. But you’re right about one thing, you’re dead. And one thing I am is fucking stronger than a dead woman.” He grabs her by the shoulder and throws her aside, running up the stairs and out of the pharmacy as IT cackles and wails behind him. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay CW: for homophobic language (F slur), homophobic bullying, it's the arcade scene y'all but modified so also a warning for blood and descriptions of injury/ violence and more internalized homophobia  
> Also smoking

Richie hates being back in Derry. He hates it so fucking much. It’s not just the clown and the nightmares it brings to life. It’s the fact that the only reason he’s ever able to function is because he’s always moving forward and in this town… all he can see are memories. He hears the pounding feet of bullies and feels Bower’s breath on his neck. Sees the words carved into the bathroom stalls about him and feels the fear he felt as he wondered to himself if they were true. 

As he’s waiting for Eddie he tries to calm down. He pulls a pack of cigarettes out one of his pockets and reaches for his lighter from the other. He hasn’t smoked in a while but something told him he might want to bring a pack to Derry. As he’s taking his first drag, he feels a tug on his arm. He jumps and looks down, nearly dropping his cigarette. There’s a boy standing there, a lanky little boy, with dark shaggy hair and huge glasses. It’s... him. Young Richie speaks, his voice high with youth and charm, twisted into a terrible british accent. 

“Hey mister, spare a fag?” Richie, who’s gone pale and can hear his heartbeat in his ears, stammers

“What?” Young Richie rolls his eyes and drops the accent. 

“You know, a cigarette, that’s what they call them-” he puts the accent back on- “across the pond.” Richie shakes his head. 

“Don’t use that word.” Young Richie cocks his head. 

“Everybody else does. Anyway, what are you, my dad? Can you spare one or not?” Richie shakes his head. 

“You’re too young to be smoking, kid.” Young Richie rolls his eyes. 

“Okay whatever, old man, see you later.” He runs off down the street, with the same candor that got Richie a bump on the head so many years ago. Before he disappears around a bend in the road though, he looks back at Richie and creepily sneers. Fuck. Richie knows this is clown magic, he knows he should just stay there and wait for Eddie but… fuck it. He drops his cigarette and runs after his younger self, following him into the arcade. It looks just as it did in the 80’s and for a second Richie wonders if he went back in time. He wonders that again when he sees his younger self playing Street Fighter at one of the machines with Connor Bowers. He knows what’s about to happen and he wants to yell, to tell that little kid to get the fuck out of there. But he knows that it won’t matter. It’s just a living memory. 

Instead, he spots the token machine on the wall, looking newer than it ever has. He puts some money in and grabs the disc that spits out, shoving it in his pocket. He looks back up when Bowers comes in, screaming obscenities that still make Richie’s skin crawl. As his younger self sprints out of there and the words “You fucking faggot!” ring through the room it dawns on him why he was so cavalier with that word earlier. To say it casually, using it in a way that gives it new meaning… well it takes at least a little of the sting out of hearing it screamed at you every day of your life. Just another layer of protection Richie Tozier wears. He sighs and when he looks back at the arcade it’s no longer as it used to be but is now a disgusting abandoned building. Cobwebs cling to everything and broken glass and newspapers litter the brown and grimy floor. Great. 

When he leaves the building his younger self is gone and Richie is alone. He should go back to Eddie now, he shouldn’t have left him. He starts walking quickly back to the pharmacy when he hears 

“Richiiiiieeee” He looks back towards the arcade and sees Eddie standing there, looking rumpled and scared. Fuck, how long was he gone? Did Eddie really have to come looking for him? But as he gets closer he realizes something’s wrong. Eddie’s eyes are all black and there’s thick drool oozing and sliding out of one corner of his mouth. He freezes and Eddie starts to speak again, slurring his words. 

“Richiieee, whyyy did you dooo this to meee?” Richie can’t move but he can talk. He could always do that. He stammers

“Me? I didn’t do anything to you Eds!” Eddie growls and points at Richie, his voice no longer deep and gooey, but how he used to sound as a kid when he was panicking about grey water. It's high and tense as he shouts and stamps his foot.

“You got me sick! You kissed me and you infected me with your faggoty germs and now I’m dying! You did this to me Richie! You did! You filthy faggot! I wish I’d never met you!” All of a sudden Eddie’s hands fly up to his face, covering his eyes with his palms facing out, like that creature from Pan’s Labyrinth, but instead of eyes in his palms, letters start to appear. Eddie screams as an R is carved into the palm of his right hand and an E into the left. A cross is also being slowly etched into his forehead as he wails in agony. The letters are gushing blood and turning black in his skin and Richie can’t look away as Eddie is marked with the symbol of the love Richie has for him, that Richie _shouldn’t_ have for him. Richie wants to run, he needs to run, but he can’t. He can’t stop looking at Eddie twitching and squealing from pain, displaying the mark of Richie’s shame and sin. It isn’t until Eddie’s blood reaches Richie’s feet that he manages to unstick them, running like he’s never run before until he gets to the pharmacy. Eddie, the real Eddie, is just coming out, looking pale and sweaty as Richie runs up, his face not much different from Eddie’s. Eddie looks him up and down and then he asks

“You get yours?” Richie nods and pants out 

“Yeah.” 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bowers shows up, so brief mention/threat of violence, his death, blood

Richie is quiet the whole walk back to the inn, not even looking at Eddie, just power walking with his hands in his jacket pockets. When they get back to the inn he goes upstairs, mumbling about having to go to the bathroom. Everyone else is in the lobby, apparently awaiting their return. Eddie notices that Ben and Bev are sitting in the same armchair and wonders if the postcard Bev is holding to her chest has anything to do with it. Eddie starts to go to join them but then he thinks back on how quiet Richie was on the walk and wonders if he should go check on him. He also remembers the panic attack Richie was having the second time they met. How Richie has dealt with it by locking himself in a small room. That recollection pushes him over the edge of concern and he starts for the stairs. He says something to the Losers about having to change his shirt real quick then heads to Richie’s room, knocking on the door and sticking his head in the room. Surprisingly the bathroom door is open and as he steps into the room all the way he realizes why.

There’s a heavyset man with a greasy mullet holding a knife tightly to Richie’s throat, muttering into his ear. 

“I’m going to slit your fucking throat you f-” Eddie runs into the bathroom at the same time that Richie stamps hard on Bower’s foot, causing him to drop his knife, which lands between Richie’s feet. Eddie swipes it while Richie elbows Bowers in the gut, which doesn’t do much. Bowers lunges for Eddie, who on instinct pushes his arms out in front of himself, which leads to Bowers impaling himself on his own knife. He falls forward with his momentum as Eddie lets go of the knife and jumps back. He lands hard, shaking the floor and pushing the knife farther into himself. Richie and Eddie stand there in shock until the rest of the Losers rush up the stairs. It’s at this point Richie apparently feels brave enough to poke the corpse with his shoe, just to check. Bowers doesn’t stir. Eddie feels his pulse. Nothing. 

The Losers all pile into Richie’s room, all talking at once. 

“What was that noise?” 

“Are you guys okay?” 

“Oh my God!” 

“Who i-i-is that?” 

“Bowers??!”

“Richie your throat is bleeding!” The last part makes Eddie look up, realizing that Bev is right. There’s a thin stripe on Richies neck where Bowers pressed the knife into his skin, about as wide as a paper cut, but streaming nonetheless. Eddie runs downstairs to grab his med kit which he had put down when they came in the inn, even as Richie tells everyone that he’s fine, that it’s barely a scratch. Eddie’s hands are shaking while he climbs but once he’s back upstairs with Richie sitting on the bed surrounded by the other Losers he gets a hold of himself. This is what he does, this is where he’s confident. His mother’s voice from earlier echoes in his head as he’s digging through his bag however and it isn’t until Ben puts a hand on his shoulder that he realizes he’s holding his breath. He tries to focus on his surroundings instead of the voices in his head. The Losers, the room, Richie. He gets a sterile alcohol swab and leans towards Richie’s throat. The other man instinctively leans back and Eddie makes a noise. Richie leans back towards him, explaining

“Sorry, I just, is it going to sting?” He sounds so meek for a man who just fought off death and Eddie smiles softly. 

“A little, do you want to hold someone’s hand?” Richie rolls his eyes. 

“I’m 40 years old, Spaghetti man.” Eddie tsks. 

“Age has nothing to do with it. I’ve had 60 year old patients hold my hand in the ambulance. Also, you literally just called me Spaghetti Man.” Richie says nothing, just leans his neck up and lets Eddie swab at it while he clenches the bed covers. It really isn’t a deep cut at all, the amount of blood it was producing made it look way worse than it was. He finishes cleaning it and applies some butterfly bandages to keep it closed as it heals. When he’s done Richie looks around at the other Losers and asks 

“Now what?” Eddie opens his mouth, about to insist Richie rest, today was a lot. Before he can say anything though Mike pipes up. 

“Did everyone get their objects?” Everyone nods and Bill mumbles 

“Yeah, and high.” Richie raises his eyebrows and protests 

“Wait, Bill got to get high? No fair!” Mike shakes his head. 

“It was to help him understand the ritual, it was a hallucinogenic root.” Richie grunts and Stan asks 

“So what’s next, Mike?” Mike looks at Bill before he answers, who Eddie suddenly notices is buzzing with energy. 

“Well when we were at Bill’s old house earlier getting his token-” Richie interrupts. 

“Wait wait wait, I thought you were tripping out, how’d you have time to do both?” Mike sighs. 

“I already had my token and we took the root here.” Then he continues. “Anyway, we think a kid’s going to die tonight, at the carnival.” Everyone looks horrified and Bill cuts in.

“W-w-w-e’re not going to l-l-l-et that happen again. N-no m-more.” They all nod. Eddie notices that Patty is still there, but no one seems to mind. She’s deep in it now, no sense keeping her out. 

Eddie checks his watch. 

“What time? It’s about 2pm now.” Mike pauses. 

“The kid was heading there soon, we should go.” Everyone nods and turns towards the door. Eddie hears Patty ask Stan if they should have brought weapons and he thinks he hears Stan reply with 

“Babylove, all we have that’s dangerous in the house is a pair of binoculars.” Eddie can’t help chuckling to himself at that. While everyone’s filing quickly out of the room he turns to Richie, who’s still on the bed. He puts his hand on Richie’s shoulder and Richie flinches. Eddie takes his hand back quickly, his face burning. Great. 

“Sorry man, I just was going to ask if you’re alright.” Richie shakes his head and jumps to his feet with what is obviously faux energy. 

“Never been better Spaghetti Man, let’s rock and roll!” Eddie looks at him for a bit, trying to make eye contact but gives up because of how dedicated Richie is to avoiding it. He quietly says

“Rich…” and Richie deflates. 

“Eds… I’m fine, okay? Don’t worry about it.” Then he leaves, following the others down the stairs before Eddie can say anything else. 


	20. Chapter 20

Honestly? Richie’s not okay. He actually doesn’t remember the last time he felt “okay” but he’s damn sure it’s not today. He’s scared, his throat hurts, and to top it off, he can barely look at Eddie without seeing him with satanic eyes and blame on his lips. He had actually gone in the bathroom to at least attempt to breathe and to process what IT had shown him but before he could, Bowers fucking reverse Psychoed him. That son of a bitch had been hiding in the shower with a knife, just waiting for one of them to come in. He’s honestly just glad it was him and not one of the others. 

As he runs down the stairs after the others he wonders if it’s a good thing his processing was interrupted. After all, his method of shoving everything down deep has gone so well for so long, why stop now? If he stops now, who knows what feelings will float to the top of his being like bloated corpses in a sewer? 

They make it to the fair, and bob through the crowd in a large cluster, not wanting to miss the kid or the clown but also not wanting to separate. They’re almost rotating in a circle back to back, once again emulating Scooby Doo, Richie thinks. For a small moment he’s distracted by wondering which member of the gang he would be. Then he sees a red balloon float by and that snaps him back to reality. There’s a kid chasing after the balloon and just by looking at Mike and Bill it’s obvious that that’s the kid. As the kid runs by he catches Richie’s eye and stops. Richie notices the balloon stops too, like it’s waiting for the child’s focus so it can resume the chase. Okay, well. This is definitely the kid. 

“Richie Tozier?” The kid’s pointing at him and he nods, trying to smile as he crouches down to his level. 

“Yeah, hi, who are you?” The kid’s eyes are wide. 

“My name’s Tim, I really like your standup!” That makes one of us, kid. As Richie talks to Tim, he sees the others standing behind him, staring at the balloon. It starts to move again and the Losers look at Richie. He waves for them to follow it, maybe if the clown gets a chase from the targets he’s really after he’ll leave this kid alone. They leave, Bev making a cell phone motion with her fingers at him. He understands what she means. He’ll find them. He looks back at the kid, listening to him basically recite Richie’s act back to him. His timing isn't terrible and he beams when Richie tells him that he could take over his job one day. Wouldn’t that be nice. It’s at this point that Richie realizes that not all the Losers left. Eddie’s still there, his face twisted up into a protective frown as he scans the area around Richie and the kid. Richie realizes he’s standing guard and from the look of his clenched fists and face, he’s ready to take on a whole army of clowns. To protect ~~Richie~~ the kid. 

It makes Richie feel terrible, as well as his heart beat faster. He’s been such a fucking ass to Eddie, in a different way than usual and yet he’s still staying behind. To be fair, it’s probably safer than chasing after the murder clown, maybe this is self interest. He looks at Eddie’s protective face again. Nope, definitely not. 

They eventually help Tim find his parents and friend group, who he had separated from when he chased the balloon. Richie wants to pull the parents aside and tell them to watch the kids like fucking hawks but he can’t find the words. Telling them that there’s a dangerous clown around would raise so many questions that he just doesn’t have the answer to, like why can’t we call the police? Instead he just shakes their hands and nods, then him and Eddie head the way the other Losers went. 

His phone buzzes. He pulls it out, Bev’s sent a text. One word. 

_Neibolt_. 


	21. Chapter 21

Eddie and Richie tear through the carnival, probably looking like they’re running away from danger instead of towards it. People only seem to care when they accidentally bump into them though which makes Eddie wonder how much this town has really changed. No one seems to care that they look like they’re running for their lives. Funnily enough if they cared about their lives they wouldn’t be running. No, they’re running for the lives of the rest of the Losers. 

When they get there, no one’s gone inside yet, not even the balloon. It’s floating on the porch like a butler, waiting to escort them inside. Richie stands in the yard panting so hard Eddie thinks he’s going to throw up. When he’s done and straightens up, Richie glares at Eddie. 

“You need to be way more winded dude, you’re making me look bad.” Eddie shrugs and is about to reply when the balloon starts moving. Pennywise is apparently impatient and doesn’t have time for Eddie and Richie to bitch at each other. 

Bill squares up his shoulders and faces the other Losers. 

“Everyone ready?” Everyone shakes their head no, but only Stan seems to have something to say about it. He turns to Patty, who everyone had honestly forgotten was there. 

“Honey, you cannot go in there.” Patty, who has been quiet and shy pretty much the whole time Eddie has seen her, suddenly has her hands on her hips and is looking Stan right in the eye, ready to  _ go _ . 

“Are you telling me that I’m supposed to let my husband go in there and risk his life? No, Stan, I’m sorry, I know what I promised but I was naive before, I didn’t know.” Stan starts to protest, saying “Babylove…” but Patty’s having none of it. 

“ _ Don’t _ you ‘Babylove’ me! I know what you’re going to say, that you can’t lose me, or it has to only be you guys, or that things in there will be too intense. Well fuck that, Stan.” She holds up three fingers, putting one down for each point she refutes. 

“1. I can’t lose you either and I already came close to that too many times these past two days, no more. 2. I won’t interfere with your ‘ritual shit’ and 3. Today I’ve seen shower caps come to life and try to kill us-” Richie looks like he really wants to ask questions but Eddie shoots him a look and he stays quiet. Patty continues, “a dead guy with a mullet in a bathroom and a balloon that fucking had a mind of its own, baby. I can’t-” Stan interrupts her flow by wrapping her in a hug. 

“Patty! Honey, okay! I just wanted to keep you safe.” He looks at Mike and mouths “this okay?” Mike nods, resigned. Bill speaks up again.

“Oka-a-ay. N-n-ow that that’s settled, does everyone have something to fight with?” No one does. Eddie doesn’t even have his medical bag, having left it at the inn. He feels uneasy about it, but there's nothing he can do now. Bev spots some of the spiky fence posts Pennywise decided to decorate the yard with lying in the grass and grabs them. They must have been kicked over by kids feeling brave, or maybe just weather and age. Eddie supposes that Pennywise puts all of his effort into terrifying people and feeding, he has no energy to do some yard cleanup. Or maybe he likes the dilapidated look, it’s a whole theme. This whole thought process is going through his head in Richie’s voice, as if having one of him around wasn’t enough. 

There aren’t enough posts to go around, just one for Bev, Bill and one she presses into Eddie’s hands. He cocks an eyebrow at her and can’t help his voice from cracking with fear when he asks 

“Bev… all due respect but we’re fighting a clown demon from hell here, do you really think this will work?” She nods.    
“This thing kills monsters.” He looks sceptical and asks 

“Really?” He feels like a little kid asking his mommy if she’s sure there are no scary beasts in his closet but he can’t help it. Bev winks. 

“If you believe it does.” Eddie takes a deep breath. He can do this. The rest of them grab assorted rocks and sharp sticks. Before they go into the house Bill turns to Richie, asking 

“Hey Rich, what was that thing you said last time we were dumb enough to do this?” 

Richie furrows his brow. 

“I fucked Eddie’s mom?” Bill pinches the bridge of his nose and answers before Eddie can retaliate, “No…” Richie tries again. 

“You're lucky we’re not measuring dicks?” This time all the Losers, including Patty answer, all groaning 

“No!” 

“Let’s kill this fucking clown?” 

Bingo. Bill nods. 

“Let’s kill this fucking clown.” 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, they're in Neibolt now so CW for disgusting imagery, violence, fridge scene

Inside Neibolt is no prettier than the outside. In fact it’s pretty fucking disgusting, Richie thinks as they all slowly venture in. Everything is grey and beyond dilapidated, every piece of furniture and decor is broken and filthy. The staircase is splintered and sharp looking, the floorboards are like seesaws they’re so unstable. Richie’s reminded of old Looney Tunes episodes where a character would slam down on a floorboard and rocket another character into the air. Hey, if everything else fails fighting this fucker, Richie’s not beyond trying cartoon physics. There’s no red balloon acting as concierge in sight, but there’s tension in the air. It seems that the bait of the idea of the Losers was enough to keep Pennywise distracted from doing any children eating. At least, that’s what Richie hopes, who knows how fast this mother fucker can move, or if he can be in two places at once. Actually, he definitely can, but Richie still hopes that the promised feast of 8 adults is enough to sasciate him for now. Not that Pennywise will get a single fucking one of them, over Richie’s dead body will that happen... maybe he shouldn’t think that, he doesn’t want to jinx it. 

He tries to lighten his own mood by making a joke about how he loves what Pennywise has done with the place. It doesn’t work and no one else laughs either. Bev even beeps him, which is probably fair. 

They all creep through the house, like they could possibly be undetected by an all seeing alien entity. Denial is the idiot's invisibility shield, Richie thinks, then makes a note to tell Bill to put that in his next book, it’s a good line. 

They all stay pretty close together as they make their way through the house, looking for the stairs that will lead to the well. This is harder than it looks because it feels like the house’s layout keeps shifting. Richie swear they’re going in circles and he wonders if Pennywise is doing this just to fuck with them or if it’s because he genuinely doesn’t want them to find him. He gets an answer to that question real quick, as all of a sudden there’s a huge creaking noise and He, Eddie, Stan and Bill in one room together and the rest of the Losers are nowhere to be seen. Stan bellows with fear and rage as he bangs on the door that closed behind them, jiggling the knob. Richie’s more concerned with the fridge plugged into the wall across from him. The strangest thing about it should be the fact that it is plugged in and actually purring with a motor. However what’s even weirder is that it’s clean. Like, brand new, out of the box clean. What, did the demon clown go to Sears or something? 

When the fridge swings open though, it’s clear that this is not a new fridge. Liquid mold drips from the shelves and streaks of fungus and other assorted stains are smeared on the inside. On the top shelf is… a head. A child’s head. Not a child that Richie recognizes, it’s not Georgie or one of the Losers, just a child. She has pigtails and buck teeth and she’s smiling eerily from her icebox prison. Richie sighs inwardly. It’s gross but at least a severed head can’t hurt them.

He definitely spoke too soon. He realizes this when the head’s eyes pop open and it starts fucking  _ vibrating _ , so hard that it rolls out of the fridge. Stan’s still banging on the door and now Bill has joined him, trying to break it down. Eddie is in the corner of the room, staring with wide eyes, holding his fence post with tight hands, like it’s a security blanket, not a weapon. Richie is also frozen, watching as deformed and gnarled spider legs start sprouting from the head and when it’s done screaming in agony at the process, it runs towards him. All of a sudden, ropes shoot out of the walls and grab Bill and Stan, binding them back against it. The head jumps with the agility of an actual spider and Richie screams as it latches onto his face. Bill and Stan are struggling against the ropes. Richie can hear Bill screaming at Eddie 

“Eddie help him! Do something! Eddie! MOVE!!” Richie is flailing with pain as this thing tries to sink sharp teeth into his forehead but he manages to grab two of the thick insect legs and pull hard, separating them from the head. The girl screams and falls off of his face, leaking thick black blood that sticks to Richie like tar. He kicks the head hard across the room then grabs his pocket knife from his pocket and cuts Bill and Stan loose. Bill turns to Eddie and shakes him. “What the fuck man? Richie could have died! You have a fucking spear, why didn’t you move?” Richie starts to defend Eddie, who looks like he wants to cry but Stan jumps in first, grabbing Bill’s arm. 

“Bill, there’s no time to be a dick right now, he froze, it happens, but what’s more important is that we’re locked in this fucking room and my  _ wife _ is on the other side with the rest of the Losers facing fucking who knows what so will you break this fucking door down with me?!” Bill composes himself and all of them together are able to break down the door, kicking it into bits of rotten wood. Stan rushes out first, finding the others in the… well, Richie doesn’t know what to call it. Living room would probably be the best word, though nothing in here reminds him of life. Deathing room doesn’t have the same ring to it though. Patty, Bev and Mike are all surrounding Ben who’s sitting on the floor, panting. Everyone appears to be alright though, thank God. There’s no time to talk and make sure that’s true however, because all of a sudden there’s a deafening roar from upstairs. It sounds like a fucking lion but no one wants to stay and find out so they all start sprinting down the hall. As Richie looks to his right, he sees the entrance to the room leading to the well. 

“Guys! This way!” Everyone follows him and they take turns climbing down the stairs in the floor, landing in the halls of the sewers. Once everyone has landed they all pause and look around at the sewers, then start wading through the shining and polluted water. Richie feels it seeping through his shoes and socks, coating his toes in a slippery sensation and he has to consciously swallow his bile. He glances at Eddie, who must already be in his own personal hell. Eddie’s mouth is nothing more than a thin line and Richie can tell he’s gritting his teeth behind it. He wishes he could take his hand, gently remind him to breathe, tell him it’s going to be okay, fuck, kiss the breath back into him. But they’re not alone, and even if they were… that can’t happen. Instead he reaches out his hand and lightly smacks Eddie’s shoulder, saying 

“Take a breath, Spaghetti Man.” Eddie jolts forward, not expecting the touch, then whips his head around and glares at Richie. 

“What the fuck dude? Can you  _ not  _ touch me from behind when we’re being stalked by a fucking demon clown who likes to sneak up behind people?” Richie scoffs. He makes it too easy.

“Sorry man, from now on I’ll save the ‘touching from behind’ for your mom.” The light in the tunnel is too green for him to see the actual color of Eddie’s face but he figures he’s turning red. At least he’s breathing now. Richie smiles. Distraction accomplished. Eddie looks like he wants to kill him before the clown can, but it’s worth it. 

It’s at this point that they reach the opening to the miniature lake that blocks them from the well entrance. Jesus, that water looks deep. Richie tries not to think about what the deepness is probably hiding. They all glance at each other and then Bill and Mike start the trek across, taking deep breaths as the water gets too deep to walk through. Everyone else follows them and Eddie, Stan and Patty have made it to the little island where the door is when Bev screams. Richie’s ahead of her and as he clumsily turns in the water he sees something yank her under. Ben and Richie dive down after her. Richie tries not to inhale through his mouth and to keep his glasses on as he looks around the murky water. He sees Bev thrashing in the hold of something, some warped grey creature with saggy tits for some reason. He’s almost reached her when he sees Ben swim up behind the monster and put it in a headlock. Now Pennywise is the one thrashing like a fish, releasing Bev, who swims to shore. Richie and Ben follow her and soon they’re panting and spitting sewer water on the island. 


	23. Chapter 23

When everyone’s caught their breath and made sure Bev’s okay, they all stand up and regard the trapdoor leading to their final destination. Eddie feels ill. He’s pretty sure it’s not the foul grey water that’s probably in his entire system though. He can’t do this. The rest of the Losers start slowly climbing down the well shaft until he’s the only one left. Well, him and Richie, who looks over at Eddie and realizes he’s not really breathing. 

“Eddie?” Richie walks over to him and gently puts his hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on, Buddy?” Eddie takes a deep breath. 

“Rich, I can’t do this. You saw me back there, I froze and you almost got eaten by a fucking head spider, my mom was right, the clown was right, I can’t even help myself and I can’t help anyone else and I’m a burden to everyone…” He says this all at once before Richie cuts him off, his eyes angry. 

“Eddie, don’t ever say the words ‘my mom was right’ or ‘the clown was right’ again, okay? That’s bullshit.” He’s put his other hand on Eddie’s shoulder too so now he’s holding him, making Eddie look into his eyes. “I mean, who fucking beat this sucker when he was only 13 years old?” Eddie pauses. 

“I mean… we all did.” Richie nods. 

“Yeah. Together. But who helped?” Eddie realizes what Richie’s trying to do.

“Me.” Richie nods again. 

“Okay, and who was brave enough to live the life he wanted, even though it made his mother mad?” Eddie swallows. His mouth tastes disgusting. 

“Me.” Richie smiles a little.

“And who was the one who came to the rescue of a dumbass who slipped on a wet sidewalk 5 years ago?” Eddie laughs a little but says seriously 

“Me.” Richie looks serious as he tells Eddie one last thing. 

“You’re braver than you think, man.” There’s something earnest and sad in Richie’s eyes that makes Eddie say

“So are you, Rich.” Richie looks a little surprised and lets go of Eddie’s shoulders. 

Just then Bev calls up to them 

“Are you guys okay? What’s taking so long?” Richie pats Eddie on the face quickly.

“C’mon Spaghetti, take it from the guy who took her to prom, you don’t want to keep Bev waiting.” Eddie nods and they follow the others down the well. 

Once they touch the ground Richie calls out to the others. Bill answers 

“Go through the hole in the wall!” Eddie looks at Richie. 

“What, no joke about glory holes or something?” Richie looks offended.

“I hardly think this is the time for levity, Spaghetti Man.” Eddie rolls his eyes and leads the way to the crack in the wall. It’s barely big enough but they make it through, landing on the other side. 

They pick themselves up off the cavern floor and see that the other Losers are all standing in the middle of a structure that looks like a slow motion splash of mud. Patty’s standing guard just outside of it, her fists clenched around a fence post. There’s some leather basket in the middle, which Mike explains is to burn their tokens in as he pours in gasoline. They all take turns throwing in their artifacts, each giving a short reason no more than a few sentences. Eddie throws in his inhaler and wonders if he’ll be strong enough to not get a new one once he gets home. If he gets home. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cw; homophobic language, deadlights character death, mention of alcoholism, violence

Once all the tokens are burning- or, considering that not everything in there is exactly flammable- in the fire, they start reciting the words Mike tells them to. Richie holds tightly to Bev and Mike's hands and closes his eyes, adding a prayer in his mind. _Please let this work._

It doesn’t. Oh sure, the deadlights come down to the basket and settle in under a closed lid but immediately after that the basket starts swelling at the seams with an expanding red balloon. The Losers run to join Patty as the balloon takes over the whole space of the structure, swelling until it explodes so loudly Richie thinks his ears are bleeding. It’s so loud and the air that bursts it floods out so sharply it knocks them all off their feet. 

As they pick themselves up they all look at each other. 

“Did it work?” 

“Was that it?” 

“We did it, right?” Those questions all get answered immediately when Pennywise himself springs up from behind the structure, growing to be over 10 feet tall. As he approaches he croons to them, spit slipping from his lips and slicking the ground. 

“Oh how I _missed_ you all! I’ve waited 27 yearrrrrs, _dreaming_ of you!” He’s huge, with a large bulbous head and legs like a spider made of accordions. What the fuck is it with this guy and spiders? They all scramble and start running, separating into smaller groups and they all run towards different parts of the cavern. Richie and Eddie end up going through the same tunnel, running for their lives until they come to a dead end. It’s a wall lined with doors Richie remembers. 

_Extremely Scary_

_Scary_

_Not Scary At All_

“Oh _fuck_ this.” Eddie says under his breath and Richie couldn’t agree more, but instead he says, with panic in his voice, 

“Well which one do we choose? Not Scary At All, right?” Eddie shakes his head, looking behind them, to where Pennywise can be heard roaring. 

“No, it’s gotta be a trap, let’s try Extremely Scary!” Richie bugs his eyes out.

“Seriously, dude??” 

“Just trust me!” They pull open ‘Extremely Scary’ and for a second Richie thinks Eddie was right. There’s nothing there. No zombies or monsters or blood fountains. Then he sees a folded piece of white paper on the ground. He picks it up, even though Eddie grabs his sleeve, hissing “dude, what the fuck are you doing?” He’s curious. 

The piece of paper turns out to be one of those cootie catchers girls on the playground would fold and use to predict silly things or to tell riddles. Richie turns it around to read the words written on it. As they smear onto his hands he realizes that they’re written in fresh blood. 

_Richie Tozier: Truth or dare?_ As he’s looking in horror at his hands and then back at Eddie, who’s whispering over and over 

“Drop it dude, drop it, drop it” he hears himself say 

“Dare.” He would never say truth, even as a kid. People are too unpredictable, especially in the 80’s, where the homophobia and rumors about him were running rampant. Even with the Losers, that wall never came down. 

The paper starts to move in his hand. The catcher sprouts teeth and a tongue and starts talking to him in a gravelly voice. 

“Pick a number, Richie.” He screams and drops it. It keeps talking. 

“Pick a number, Richie, you know you want to, let’s see how you’re going to die.” Eddie’s talking louder in his ear now

“Don’t do it dude!” But Richie can’t help himself. 

“3” the cootie catcher starts to contort itself, pinching out the pattern 1, 2, 3. Each chosen lip unfolds and displays a picture that starts moving. 1. Richie walking down the road, getting hit by a bus, 2. Richie slipping and smacking his head in the shower, 3. Richie getting beaten to death by men yelling homophobic slurs at a carnival. All of a sudden Eddie stamps on the cootie catcher, hard, smearing it into the ground then slamming the door. Richie’s gone white. He knows Eddie probably knows his secret, knows that kissing him was probably a pretty big tell that he’s a “flaming queer,” as Bowers would say, but still. Eddie doesn’t say anything though, just marches over to Not Scary At All and wrenches it open. 

It’s… a closet, and for a second Richie thinks that it’s another one for him and he doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. But then he sees there’s a figure sitting in there, breathing hard. He’s even more confused when he realizes it’s _him._ He’s in the hospital closet, having his panic attack. Is this… supposed to be scary? 

Then the other Richie looks up at Eddie, whimpering 

“Help me Eds…” Richie turns to Eddie, grabbing his sleeve, but Eddie’s not moving. He doesn’t have to, there’s already an Eddie there, kneeling next to the Richie in the closet and cupping his face in his hands, telling him he’s there. Richie’s watching, riveted, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then it does. They’re about to kiss, Eddie’s eyes are closed, when fake Richie suddenly slams fake Eddie into the closet wall, and gets up, leaving him. But before does, he throws something at Eddie’s face, spitting 

“What, you think that kiss before actually meant something? It was a fucking _joke_ Kaspbrak, just like you. You’re going to die alone. Like you should.” Richie stares in horror as the Eddie in the closet starts to wheeze with pain and panic into the partially melted inhaler the other man had hurled at him. All alone. 

Now it’s Richie’s turn to slam the door, and after he does he looks at Eddie. The other man’s face is petrified, embarrassed and resigned all at the same time. The resignation is what tells Richie that Eddie actually believes this bullshit. He winces, realizing that it’s probably his fault. Not the demented clown part but he _did_ kiss Eddie then run away, and when Eddie tried to talk about it he apologized and made him drop it. No wonder Eddie thinks that it was some sick joke. 

“Eds…” He can do this. He can be brave, because the clown’s shown him two things he shouldn't have. One, that life is short, and two, Eddie needs to know the truth more than Richie needs to hide it. “Eds, I have to tell you something.” 

Eddie jolts out of the daze he’s in and shakes his head, snapping, 

“whatever it is Rich, it can wait til we’re through with all this shit. C’mon let’s just turn back, I don’t hear him anymore.” Richie wants to fight him on this, to get it out now before it’s too late but Eddie is already heading back. Richie runs after him, and eventually in front of him, just in time to see Pennywise bearing down on Mike and Patty and Stan. He doesn’t know what to do, he has no weapons on him. But he does have a voice. 

“Hey Ass Clown!!-” Not his best work but Pennywise turns to him, intrigued. “You want to play truth or dare? Here’s a truth, you’re a sloppy bitch! C’mon! Let’s go! Yippee-ay kay-yay Mother-” 

There are lights in his eyes. No- not lights- the past, the future. _Everything_ . There is _everything_ in his eyes. No, that’s still wrong, because everything in front of him has a common denominator- Eddie. He has _Eddie_ in his eyes. Eddie’s past- seeing them as little kids on the playground, where Richie would stick his finger in something gross then chase Eddie with it. As young teens, where Eddie would climb into the clubhouse hammock with Richie, bitching the whole time about whose turn it was while he stuck his feet in Richie’s face. When they were older teens, hanging out in the barrens late at night after they both snuck out, staring at the stars and talking about where they would go, what they would do when they escaped. When Eddie was 22 and graduating from college, no one there to care, his mother at home sulking about his dangerous ideas for a career. At his mother’s funeral, surrounded only by family, whispering about how it was probably his life choices that drove her to such an early grave, what a disappointing son. When they were 35, hanging out on Eddie’s couch, Richie putting _his_ feet in Eddie’s face, a revenge he hadn’t even known he was taking at the time. That time they tried to cook a souffle together out of curiosity (Richie wanted to know if it would actually fall from noise- it did.) Eddie pushing Richie’s back against the wall, licking Richie’s lips. 

Then the images change and Richie starts to see things that must be the future… or maybe it’s the present. He sees himself, floating like a dead eyed zombie above the ground. He sees Eddie behind him, still gripping the fence post. He sees Eddie mumbling to himself then hurling the post into Pennywise’s way too open mouth while screaming “beep beep, motherfucker!” He sees himself fall to the ground, crumpled, and Eddie rushes gleefully over to him. Eddie leans over Richie’s body, telling him to “wake up Rich, I think I did it! I killed IT!” Eddie doesn’t see the claw coming. Richie can’t predict Eddie’s blood spewing from his body to splash Richie’s chest and face. The gargled noises Eddie makes as he whines Richie’s name through the dark viscous liquid gushing from his lips. Richie sees himself holding Eddie’s limp body, and fighting the others as they drag him away. He hears the desperation and denial in his voice as he resists and pleads;“we can still help him you guys!” He sees Neibolt sink to the ground, and the others still have to restrain him. He _feels_ how badly he wants to be in there dying _with_ Eddie, instead of out in the open, dying without him. 

What’s even worse than seeing Eddie’s death is seeing the aftermath. How Bill and Mike start living together, Bill leaving his wife, who doesn’t seem too fussed about it. Bev and Ben get married, Bev leaving her asshole husband and taking him for all he’s worth. Stan and Patty finally have a baby, naming him Edward Robin Uris. Richie visits the kissing bridge and recarves initials, hearing the words “whatever it is Rich, it can wait” echoing in his ears. Richie goes back to New York and bribes Eddie’s landlord to let him into Eddie’s apartment, where he sobs into his couch until he’s empty. Richie replaces the liquid that left his body in the form of tears with bourbon. Richie passes out against a certain wall of Eddie’s place and gets rushed to the hospital for alcohol poisoning by an EMT who is not Eddie Kaspbrak. Under the wreckage of Neibolt, Eddie’s crushed and impaled body erodes until the man Richie loves is a pile of shattered, dirty bones. His funeral shroud is a grimy leather jacket and his final resting place is in Richie's memories.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cw: violence for clown death Also yeah, I made Patty a kindergarten teacher... idk why it just felt right XD

Eddie watches in horror as Richie gets himself caught in the deadlights. As he rises into the air like a limp puppet. As Pennywise devours him in a slower way, savouring the essence of his soul. Eddie knows in his bones that if he doesn’t do something soon, Richie will be nothing more than an empty husk and Eddie’s world will fall apart. 

He tightens his grip on the fence post he’s still holding, repeating Bev’s words as he charges forward. 

“If you believe it does, if you believe it does, if you believe it does.” Then he hurls the spear into the clown’s mouth, yelling “BEEP BEEP, MOTHERFUCKER” with all the conviction he has in his body. To his surprise, it’s a dead hit and Pennywise screeches, his mouth returning to normal size as he falls backward, impaling himself on one of the spikes that fill the cavern. A terrible interior decorating choice, really. 

Eddie can’t focus on the lifestyle choices of an alien however, he’s more concerned with getting over to where Richie is laying, groggy and blinking. 

“Rich! Rich!” He can’t keep the pride out of his voice. “I think I did it! I think I killed it!” Before he can process it, Richie’s eyes go wide and he shoots his arms up, grabbing Eddie’s torso and rolling them both hard to the side. He feels the earth shake as a claw slams into where he once was. Oh fuck. 

“Rich… you just saved my life.” Richie blinks above him and Eddie wonders if he can even really see anything, he still looks like he just woke up. But then he blinks and smirks a little down at Eddie, who’s still pinned under him. 

“Well you know me, Eduardo, I hate waiting to return a favor.” He rolls off of Eddie and offers him his hand so Eddie can stand. “Now, c’mon, this fucker needs to die.” 

That’s a sentiment that’s definitely shared by Eddie and the other Losers. The problem is, no one knows how they’re supposed to do that. At least, they don’t until Pennywise reaches down and picks up Patty, holding her above his mouth. Stan is howling and the rest of the Losers are right there with him, scared that if they do anything else but scream he’ll drop her into his maw. But Patty doesn’t scream, doesn’t cry, doesn’t even look scared. She looks him right in the eye and says, in a voice that reminds Eddie that Stan said she is a kindergarten teacher: 

“You don’t scare me.” Pennywise stops unhinging his jaw to cackle. 

“Oh but don’t I? It doesn’t scare you that your little Stan will soon be all alone?” She shakes her head. 

“No. He won’t be alone, he has his friends. Also, you can’t hurt me, you’re nothing but a clown. A big bully. Just a clown.” Pennywise twitches, shrinking a little. Eddie sees Mike’s eyes light up, and he yells to the rest of the Losers, 

“He has to abide by the rules of whatever form he’s in, guys, c’mon! Make him small!” He joins in with Patty, screaming, 

“You’re just a clown!” The rest of them slowly join in, circling closer, adding, 

“Old lady!” 

“Creepy painting!” 

“Clown!” 

“Clown!” Pennywise’s head shakes, switching between each horrifying form as he slowly deflates, shrinking and melting into the ground until he’s nothing more than a saggy puddle. Patty sinks down to the ground with him and runs into Stan’s arms. 

Pennywise is a soft mush of goo on the ground, his heart an exposed lump in his chest. Richie fumbles for his pocket knife and clicks it open, cutting a slit in the clown’s puddling outer skin. Bill does the honors, wrenching out the pulsating mass and extending his hand out to the other Losers. They all put their hands around it and after one last look at the bogeyman who took their childhood, they squeeze. Hard. The heart ruptures, the deadlights shatter like broken light bulbs and the ground starts to rumble. Eddie looks around at the others, his eyes wide with fear as rocks start to tumble around them. Stan screams, 

“Everybody out! Now!” They all sprint towards the way back, dodging rocks and other debris. Eddie trips over a skull that's way too small and Ben grabs his collar and keeps him upright. 

They make it out just in time, the house sinking into the ground with a crash Eddie’s surprised doesn’t bring the town running. Maybe only Losers can hear it. 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love confessions and some kissin'

Richie’s still shaking when they get back to the inn. This whole ordeal might finally be over, but it doesn’t feel like it, not when he can close his eyes and see Eddie’s decaying corpse. It doesn’t help that when he goes into his bathroom to take a shower, Bower’s dead body is still there, heavy and putrid. He takes a shower anyway, scrubbing the grime of the literal sewer water off of his body, grimacing as he passes over bruises and scrapes. He’s really fucking glad he packed soap, a rare occurrence for him.   


When he finally feels clean he wraps up in a towel, steps back over Bowers, goes back into his room and changes. He shuts the bathroom door behind him, they’ll deal with that bastard tomorrow morning. Richie has a strong feeling they’re going to be burying him in the barrens or some shit like that and he just can’t think about that right now. 

He’s just flopped back on his bed and is fighting the battle to keep his eyes open when there’s a knock on his door. He mumbles 

“Come in” and Eddie enters, his hair wet and a towel once again around his neck. He’s wearing a white shirt and navy sweatpants and Richie notices he’s even more fit than he was 5 years ago. He adjusts his own t-shirt and clears his throat. It doesn’t do much good, his voice is still a bit raspy as he says

“Hey Eds, what’s up?” Eddie comes into the room and sits gingerly on the bed next to Richie's feet. He opens his mouth to say something then he looks at Richie’s feet. 

“Rich… is that blood?” Richie picks up one of his feet and looks at it. Eddie’s right, there’s smears of red on his toes and heel. 

“Oh shit, yeah, Bowers is still in the bathroom, I guess when I stepped on the blood with wet feet…” Eddie looks incredulous. 

“You didn’t pack flip flops?” Richie laughs. 

“Eds, first off, I’m lucky I packed shampoo. Also, love how that’s the first thing you think of when I say there’s still a dead body in the other room.” He cracks his knuckles nervously. “Anyway, did you need something?” Eddie looks back at him, a little confused, before he remembers. 

“Oh yeah, um. When we were down in the cavern, you said you had to tell me something?” Oh. Fuck. Richie hadn’t really expected Eddie to follow up like this, he thought he would have actually forgotten after the drama of the day. Every instinct he has is telling him to brush Eddie off, pretend it was something else. But he looks at Eddie sitting on his bed, bent over with his elbows on his knees, looking tired and he remembers what he saw in the closet and the deadlights. Fuck it. He swallows and sits up, sliding over so he’s sitting next to Eddie at the edge of the bed. He’s glad the door is closed as he clears his throat. 

“Yeah, yeah I do, um. Eds, I didn’t kiss you as a joke.” Eddie’s very stiff as he turns his head towards Richie, just a little. 

“Rich, you don’t have to… look, we don’t have to-” Richie interrupts him. 

“No Eds, you don’t get it. I kissed you because… well, I wanted to and for once in my life I felt brave enough to do it. That’s probably cowardly in and of itself because I knew I was leaving town soon but it wasn’t my plan to run out like that. We just, it started to move so fast and it was like all my dreams were coming true. So I freaked out and then I forgot and then when I saw you again I remembered fucking everything. Eds I’m..” He gulps, trying to slow both his rambling words and his heartbeat. “Fuck. I’m in love with you, Eddie. I’ve loved you since we were kids and I love you now. Please don’t hate me.” He’s staring straight ahead at the door, trying not to cry. It’s not working very well, a couple tears have started to fall. 

He feels the bed shift and then he feels someone’s fingers wiping away his tears before Eddie whispers 

“Oh right” and starts to use the towel he has around his neck. Then he demands, “why the fuck would I hate you?” His tone is almost harsh and Richie exhales. 

“I don’t know, I just, I don’t want to ruin everything, ruin you, ruin our friendship- and I ran away before... believe me Eduardo, you have a laundry list of reasons” Eddie interrupts him by standing up and putting his arms around him, just like Stan did earlier to Patty. Richie’s tears come faster as he remembers clinging to Eddie as he was pulled away in the deadlights. When Eddie finally pulls away he says quietly 

“You idiot. Can I kiss you?” Richie nods and shifts his body so he’s leaning against the pillows with his legs on the bed. Eddie slides up between them and puts his hands on Richie’s face, tilting his lips to his. He’s tentative, and Richie wonders if he’s remembering the scene in the closet as much as Richie is. He slides his arms around Eddie, pulling him closer and Eddie relaxes. His body melts into Richie’s and his hands slide up from Richies’ face to the back of his head, cradling it and pulling him even nearer. Richie slides his hands down Eddie’s back, thinking,  _ he knows. He knows and he’s got his tongue in my mouth.  _ Feels like a good sign but Richie has to check. He pulls back and Eddie’s eyes fly open, fear in them for a moment. But Richie just says 

“So… not to be that guy, but… do you.. Uhm…” Eddie seems to catch his drift and relaxes again, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, Rich, I love you too, I’ve loved you probably longer than you’ve loved me.” Richie looks disbelieving but instead of challenging this he leans in to kiss Eddie again before pulling back once more.    
“Oh yeah, by the way, I’m gay.” Eddie leans his face down so he can kiss Richie’s neck as he mumbles 

“Yeah man, no shit, me too.” 

“Cool, cool.” Eddie pulls back from Richie’s neck to ask 

“That it?” Richie nods, then brings Eddie’s mouth back to his, pushing him back against the bed and sinking down on top of him before he raises his head just one more time.

“Oh yeah, one more thing.”

“Yeah, Rich?” 

“I fucked your dad.” 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue!

_2 Years Later_

Eddie pats his pockets down nervously. He feels the blocky shape in his jacket and takes a deep breath, looking around the apartment. 

“Hey Rich, you ready?” Richie bounds out of their room in a shirt that’s verging on garish.

“Ready, Eddie, my love!” Eddie smiles. That’s a nickname he actually likes. Well. If he’s being honest, he likes all the nicknames Richie gives him. But Richie doesn’t need to know that. In fact, Richie doesn’t need to know anything about where they’re going today either. Well. Not yet anyway. 

They get into Eddie’s car, Richie asking Eddie over and over to tell him where they’re going. The man has no sense of patience. When Eddie points this out Richie retorts

“Excuse you, I waited for you for like 30 years.” Eddie makes a noise.

“Pfft no you didn’t, _I_ waited for you for 30 years, you waited 25.” Richie scoffs.

“That doesn’t count, I didn’t confess my love then, Spaghedward.” Eddies hums and the car is quiet… for about two seconds until Richie asks “sooooo where are we going?” 

Eddie turns on the radio. 

They park about 5 minutes away from their destination, Richie still absolutely clueless. Eddie’s a little surprised he doesn’t recognize it by now but he supposes it makes sense that he doesn’t. 

When they arrive, Richie looks around. They’re on a random sidewalk, there’s not really any interesting shops around, or restaurants, or really anything noteworthy. Well. There’s one thing, but Richie hasn’t seen it yet.

“Eds, where are we?” Richie asks, his back to Eddie as he looks around, trying to figure it out. Then he faces Eddie. “Oh fuck.” 

Eddie’s on one knee, having taken the lump of a ring box out of his jacket pocket. He starts to say 

“Rich…” but Richie holds up his hand, tears in his eyes.

“Wait, Eds, before I completely lose it, can you clarify real quick why you’re proposing on a random sidewalk?” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“You idiot, can I finish?” He thinks he hears Richie mumble “that’s what your mom said last night” but he keeps going anyway.

“What I was going to say was, Rich, 7 years ago on this spot an absolute dumbass fell and hit his head. That makes it this the most important spot in the world, because if he hadn’t, there never would have been a brave, handsome, EMT who came to his rescue-” Richie interrupts again

“Oh yeah, what was that guy’s name again? Gordon?” Eddie sends him a loving death glare and Richie shuts up, grinning. 

“Okay it’s clear the speech was a mistake, which I honestly should have known, so, Richie, will you marry me?” 

Richie smiles. 

“Of course I will Eds.” He’s openly crying now as Eddie puts the silver ring on his finger and stands up. He uses his fingers to wipe away Richie’s tears just like he did two years ago.

“You sap” Eddie whispers this before Richie bends down to kiss him. After the kiss Richie objects 

“ _I'm_ the sap? Who was it who remembered and proposed in the exact spot I literally fell for you, Spaghetti Man?” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“A. You didn’t fall for me here, you fell and I helped you and B. Oh shut up.” Richie laughs and as they kiss, Eddie realizes that A. he’ll never be alone in the world again, and B. That's such a good thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked it!


End file.
